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Gedge, however, continued to talk in the language of courts. It was obvious that McHenry's twenty-five years in French possessions had not taught him the white man's language. He demanded brusquely, "What are you oui-oui-ing for?" and occasionally interjected a few words of bastard French in an attempt to be jovial. To this Gedge paid little attention.
No matter what my private opinions may be, you just try to bring me up under the Defence of the Realm Act, and you'll find you can't touch me." I held out a hand. "Forgive me for interrupting," said I, "but what is all this discussion about?" Gedge crossed one leg over the other and drew his beard through his fingers.
Can't you marry him because you love me?" "One generally marries because one loves the man one's going to marry," said Phyllis. "But you do love him," cried Gedge. "Either you're just a wanton little hussy or you must care for the fellow." "I don't. I hate him. And I don't want to have anything more to do with him." The tears came.
I hardly think the adjectives of the report were those that were really used. "So your precious Colonel has got the V.C.," sneered Gedge. "He has," said Marigold. "And it's too great an honour for your inconsiderable town." "If this inconsiderable town knew as much about him as I do, it would give him the order of the precious boot." "And what do you know?" asked Marigold.
Indeed, there were several little excitements in the wind which came out one by one, and made the evening a sort of epoch in the lives of most of those present. For instance, young Gedge was there no longer as a common compositor. He had lately been made, youth as he was, overseer in the room of Durfy; and the dignity of his new office filled him with sobriety and good- humour.
Snatches of the Pilgrim's Progress came into his mind, half-forgotten airs of music crossed his memory, the vision of young Gedge as he last saw him fleeted before his eyes. He tried in vain to collect his thoughts, but they were hopelessly astray, leaving him for the time barely conscious, and wholly uninterested in what was taking place around him.
"Now, my dear," said I. "Now that you're married, become a real womanly woman and fill my empty soul with gossip." "There's no gossip at all about it," she replied serenely. "It's all sordid and romantic fact. The two men hold long discussions together at Gedge's house, Gedge talking anti-patriotism and Randall talking rot which he calls philosophy. You can hear them, can't you?
When he went up on the Saturday to receive his wages he had fully expected to learn Mr Durfy's intentions with regard to him, and was duly surprised when that gentleman actually handed him his money without a word, and with the faintest suspicion of a smile. "He's got a nailer on you, old man, and no mistake," said Gedge, dolefully.
Being directly addressed, I recovered my nerve. "Before doing that," said I, "perhaps it would be best for us to hear what kind of a story he has to tell us. We should also like to know his motives in not denouncing the supposed murderer at once, and in keeping his knowledge hidden all this time." "With regard to the last part of your remarks, I dare say you would," said Gedge.
And Waterford came too, and young Gedge, as did also the faithful Harker, and with some little trepidation the now sobered Blandford. The company had quite enough to talk about without having to fall back on shouting proverbs or musical chairs.
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