The Kingdom of the Blind [33]
in his usually immobile face. Her eyes, however, were fixed upon the diamond ring which sparkled upon her third finger. Slowly she drew it off and handed it to him.
"Hugh," she said, "the things you speak of do not exist any more between us. I am sorry, but I think you are narrow and suspicious. You have your own work to do. It seems to me mean to spend your time suspecting soldiers who have fought for their king and their country, of such a despicable crime."
"Can't you trust me a little more than that, Geraldine?" he asked wistfully.
"In what way?" she demanded. "I judge only by the facts, the things you have said to me, your accusations against Captain Granet. Why should you go out of your way to investigate cases of suspected espionage?"
"You cannot believe that I would do so unless I was convinced that it was my duty?"
"I cannot see that it is your business at all," she told him shortly.
He rose from his place.
"I am very sorry, Geraldine," he said. "I will keep this ring. You are quite free. But--look at me."
Against her will she was forced to do as he bade her. Her own attitude, which had appeared to her so dignified and right, seemed suddenly weakened. She had the feeling of a peevish child.
"Geraldine," he begged, "take at least the advice of a man who loves you. Wait."
Even when he had opened the door she felt a sudden inclination to call him back. She heard him go down the hall, heard the front door open and close. She sat and looked in a dazed sort of way at the empty space upon her finger. Then she rose and went into the drawing-room, where her father and mother were still reading. She held out her hand.
"Mother," she announced, "I am not engaged to Major Thomson any more."
The Admiral laid down his newspaper.
"Damned good job, too!" he declared. "That young fellow Granet's worth a dozen of him. Never could stick an Army Medical. Well, well! How did he take it?"
Lady Conyers watched her daughter searchingly. Then she shook her head.
"I hope you have done wisely, dear," she said.
CHAPTER XIII
At a little after noon on the following day Captain Granet descended from a taxicab in the courtyard of the Milan Hotel, and, passing through the swing doors, made his way to the inquiry office. A suave, black-coated young clerk hastened to the desk.
"Can you tell me," Granet inquired, "whether a gentlemen named Guillot is staying here?"
The young man bowed.
"Monsieur Guillot arrived last night, sir," he announced. "He has just rung down to say that if a gentlemen called to see him he could be shown up. Here, page," he went on, turning to a diminutive youth in the background, "show this gentleman to number 322."
Granet followed the boy to the lift and was conducted to a room on the third floor. The door was opened by a tall, white-haired Frenchman.
"Monsieur Guillot?" Captain Granet inquired pleasantly. "My name is Granet."
The Frenchman ushered him in. The door was closed and carefully locked. Then Monsieur Guillot swung around and looked at his visitor with some curiosity. Granet was still wearing his uniform.
"France must live," Granet murmured.
The Frenchman at once extended his hand.
"My friend," he confessed, "for a moment I was surprised. It did not occur to me to see you in this guise."
Granet smiled.
"I have been out at the Front," he explained, "and am home wounded."
"But an English officer?" Monsieur Guillot remarked dubiously. "I do not quite understand, then. The nature of the communication which I have come to receive is known to you?"
Granet nodded and accepted the chair which his host had offered.
"I do not think that you should be so much surprised," he said simply. "If the war is grievous for your country, it is ruin to mine. We do not, perhaps, advertise our apprehensions in the papers. We prefer to keep them locked up in our own brain. There is one great fact always before us. Germany is unconquerable. One must find peace or perish."
Monsieur Guillot listened with a
"Hugh," she said, "the things you speak of do not exist any more between us. I am sorry, but I think you are narrow and suspicious. You have your own work to do. It seems to me mean to spend your time suspecting soldiers who have fought for their king and their country, of such a despicable crime."
"Can't you trust me a little more than that, Geraldine?" he asked wistfully.
"In what way?" she demanded. "I judge only by the facts, the things you have said to me, your accusations against Captain Granet. Why should you go out of your way to investigate cases of suspected espionage?"
"You cannot believe that I would do so unless I was convinced that it was my duty?"
"I cannot see that it is your business at all," she told him shortly.
He rose from his place.
"I am very sorry, Geraldine," he said. "I will keep this ring. You are quite free. But--look at me."
Against her will she was forced to do as he bade her. Her own attitude, which had appeared to her so dignified and right, seemed suddenly weakened. She had the feeling of a peevish child.
"Geraldine," he begged, "take at least the advice of a man who loves you. Wait."
Even when he had opened the door she felt a sudden inclination to call him back. She heard him go down the hall, heard the front door open and close. She sat and looked in a dazed sort of way at the empty space upon her finger. Then she rose and went into the drawing-room, where her father and mother were still reading. She held out her hand.
"Mother," she announced, "I am not engaged to Major Thomson any more."
The Admiral laid down his newspaper.
"Damned good job, too!" he declared. "That young fellow Granet's worth a dozen of him. Never could stick an Army Medical. Well, well! How did he take it?"
Lady Conyers watched her daughter searchingly. Then she shook her head.
"I hope you have done wisely, dear," she said.
CHAPTER XIII
At a little after noon on the following day Captain Granet descended from a taxicab in the courtyard of the Milan Hotel, and, passing through the swing doors, made his way to the inquiry office. A suave, black-coated young clerk hastened to the desk.
"Can you tell me," Granet inquired, "whether a gentlemen named Guillot is staying here?"
The young man bowed.
"Monsieur Guillot arrived last night, sir," he announced. "He has just rung down to say that if a gentlemen called to see him he could be shown up. Here, page," he went on, turning to a diminutive youth in the background, "show this gentleman to number 322."
Granet followed the boy to the lift and was conducted to a room on the third floor. The door was opened by a tall, white-haired Frenchman.
"Monsieur Guillot?" Captain Granet inquired pleasantly. "My name is Granet."
The Frenchman ushered him in. The door was closed and carefully locked. Then Monsieur Guillot swung around and looked at his visitor with some curiosity. Granet was still wearing his uniform.
"France must live," Granet murmured.
The Frenchman at once extended his hand.
"My friend," he confessed, "for a moment I was surprised. It did not occur to me to see you in this guise."
Granet smiled.
"I have been out at the Front," he explained, "and am home wounded."
"But an English officer?" Monsieur Guillot remarked dubiously. "I do not quite understand, then. The nature of the communication which I have come to receive is known to you?"
Granet nodded and accepted the chair which his host had offered.
"I do not think that you should be so much surprised," he said simply. "If the war is grievous for your country, it is ruin to mine. We do not, perhaps, advertise our apprehensions in the papers. We prefer to keep them locked up in our own brain. There is one great fact always before us. Germany is unconquerable. One must find peace or perish."
Monsieur Guillot listened with a