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Updated: June 18, 2025
But it seemed to her that he had spoken to her as she to him. The music had, after all, been a bridge. It was not even strange that he had used Durrance's voice wherewith to speak to her. "When was this?" she asked at length. "In February of this year. I will tell you about it." "Yes, please, tell me." And Durrance spoke out of the shadows of the room.
There had been an accent of wariness and caution in his voice, which was hatefully familiar to Durrance's ears, for just with that accent Ethne had been wont to speak. Moreover, Durrance had set traps, that remark of his "for no obvious reason, I think I said," had been one, and a little start here, or a quick turn there, showed him that Willoughby had tumbled into them.
If he had any suspicion of Durrance's visit, he gave no sign of it. He rang the bell, and tea was brought into the great hall where the portraits hung. He asked after this and that officer in the Soudan with whom he was acquainted, he discussed the iniquities of the War Office, and feared that the country was going to the deuce.
"I have not eight weeks' arrears of letters to clear off, as you have, Colonel," Calder returned with a laugh; and he saw Durrance's face cloud and his forehead contract. "True," he said, after a pause. "I had forgotten my letters." And he rose from his seat at the table, mounted the steps, and passed into the mess-room.
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