The Kingdom of the Blind [3]
did so well."
"An Admirable Crichton," Major Thomson murmured.
"In sport, at any rate," his neighbour assented. "He has always been one of the most popular young men about town, but of course the women will spoil him now."
"Is it my fancy," he asked, "or was he not reported a prisoner?"
"He was missing twice, once for over a week," Mrs. Cunningham replied. "There are all sorts of stories as to how he got back to the lines. A perfect young dare-devil, I should think. I must talk to Mr. Daniell for a few minutes or he will never publish my reminiscences."
She leaned towards her neighbour on the other side and Major Thomson was able to resume the role of attentive observer, a role which seemed somehow his by destiny. He listened without apparent interest to the conversation between Geraldine Conyers and the young man whom they had been discussing.
"I think," Geraldine complained, "that you are rather overdoing your diplomatic reticence, Captain Granet. You haven't told me a single thing. Why, some of the Tommies I have been to see in the hospitals have been far more interesting than you."
He smiled.
"I can assure you," he protested, "it isn't my fault. You can't imagine how fed up one gets with things out there, and the newspapers can tell you ever so much more than we can. One soldier only sees a little bit of his own corner of the fight, you know."
"But can't you tell me some of your own personal experiences?" she persisted. "They are so much more interesting than what one reads in print."
"I never had any," he assured her. "Fearfully slow time we had for months."
"Of course, I don't believe a word you say," she declared, laughing.
"You're not taking me for a war correspondent, by any chance, are you?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Your language isn't sufficiently picturesque! Tell me, when are you going back?"
"As soon as I can pass the doctors-in a few days, I hope."
"You hope?" she repeated. "Do you really mean that, or do you say it because it is the proper thing to say?"
He appeared for the moment to somewhat resent her question.
"The fact that I hope to get back," he remarked coldly, "has nothing whatever to do with my liking my job when I get there. As a matter of fact, I hate it. At the same time, you can surely understand that there isn't any other place for a man of my age and profession."
"Of course not," she agreed softly. "I really am sorry that I bothered you. There is one thing I should like to know, though and that is how you managed to escape?"
He shook his head but his amiability seemed to have wholly returned. His eyes twinkled as he looked at her.
"There we're up against a solid wall of impossibility," he replied. "You see, some of our other chaps may try the dodge. I gave them the tip and I don't want to spoil their chances. By-the-bye, do you know the man two places down on your left?" he added dropping his voice a little. "Looks almost like a waxwork figure, doesn't he?"
"You mean Major Thomson? Yes, I know him," she assented, after a moment's hesitation. "He is very quiet to-day, but he is really most interesting."
Their hostess rose and beamed on them all from her end of the table.
"We have decided," she announced, "to take our coffee out in the lounge."
CHAPTER II
The little party trooped out of the restaurant and made their way to a corner of the lounge, where tables had already been prepared with coffee and liqueurs. Geraldine Conyers and Captain Granet, who had lingered behind, found a table to themselves. Lady Anselman laid her fingers upon Major Thomson's arm.
"Please talk for a few more minutes to Selarne," she begged. "Your French is such a relief to her."
He obeyed immediately, although his eyes strayed more than once towards the table at which Captain Granet and his companion were seated. Madame Selarne was in a gossipy mood and they found many mutual acquaintances.
"To speak a foreign language as you do," she told him, "is wonderful. Is it in French alone, monsieur, that
"An Admirable Crichton," Major Thomson murmured.
"In sport, at any rate," his neighbour assented. "He has always been one of the most popular young men about town, but of course the women will spoil him now."
"Is it my fancy," he asked, "or was he not reported a prisoner?"
"He was missing twice, once for over a week," Mrs. Cunningham replied. "There are all sorts of stories as to how he got back to the lines. A perfect young dare-devil, I should think. I must talk to Mr. Daniell for a few minutes or he will never publish my reminiscences."
She leaned towards her neighbour on the other side and Major Thomson was able to resume the role of attentive observer, a role which seemed somehow his by destiny. He listened without apparent interest to the conversation between Geraldine Conyers and the young man whom they had been discussing.
"I think," Geraldine complained, "that you are rather overdoing your diplomatic reticence, Captain Granet. You haven't told me a single thing. Why, some of the Tommies I have been to see in the hospitals have been far more interesting than you."
He smiled.
"I can assure you," he protested, "it isn't my fault. You can't imagine how fed up one gets with things out there, and the newspapers can tell you ever so much more than we can. One soldier only sees a little bit of his own corner of the fight, you know."
"But can't you tell me some of your own personal experiences?" she persisted. "They are so much more interesting than what one reads in print."
"I never had any," he assured her. "Fearfully slow time we had for months."
"Of course, I don't believe a word you say," she declared, laughing.
"You're not taking me for a war correspondent, by any chance, are you?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Your language isn't sufficiently picturesque! Tell me, when are you going back?"
"As soon as I can pass the doctors-in a few days, I hope."
"You hope?" she repeated. "Do you really mean that, or do you say it because it is the proper thing to say?"
He appeared for the moment to somewhat resent her question.
"The fact that I hope to get back," he remarked coldly, "has nothing whatever to do with my liking my job when I get there. As a matter of fact, I hate it. At the same time, you can surely understand that there isn't any other place for a man of my age and profession."
"Of course not," she agreed softly. "I really am sorry that I bothered you. There is one thing I should like to know, though and that is how you managed to escape?"
He shook his head but his amiability seemed to have wholly returned. His eyes twinkled as he looked at her.
"There we're up against a solid wall of impossibility," he replied. "You see, some of our other chaps may try the dodge. I gave them the tip and I don't want to spoil their chances. By-the-bye, do you know the man two places down on your left?" he added dropping his voice a little. "Looks almost like a waxwork figure, doesn't he?"
"You mean Major Thomson? Yes, I know him," she assented, after a moment's hesitation. "He is very quiet to-day, but he is really most interesting."
Their hostess rose and beamed on them all from her end of the table.
"We have decided," she announced, "to take our coffee out in the lounge."
CHAPTER II
The little party trooped out of the restaurant and made their way to a corner of the lounge, where tables had already been prepared with coffee and liqueurs. Geraldine Conyers and Captain Granet, who had lingered behind, found a table to themselves. Lady Anselman laid her fingers upon Major Thomson's arm.
"Please talk for a few more minutes to Selarne," she begged. "Your French is such a relief to her."
He obeyed immediately, although his eyes strayed more than once towards the table at which Captain Granet and his companion were seated. Madame Selarne was in a gossipy mood and they found many mutual acquaintances.
"To speak a foreign language as you do," she told him, "is wonderful. Is it in French alone, monsieur, that