kely to interfere with me in an Army car.
Jump in and I'll get you there with a quarter of an hour in hand."

"But----"

It was Terry who had spoken. Her brows puckered with thoughtfulness, she
was gazing far away into the green distance. He waited for her to
amplify her objection. When she maintained silence, he prompted her. "If
it's me and my bag that's the trouble, you don't need to worry. After
I've driven you both to the War Office, I can fudge round for a taxi.
One can usually wangle one in the neighborhood of Whitehall."

Before he had ended, he knew that his guess had missed fire. It wasn't
his comfort that was disturbing her.

"All right," she said reluctantly. "I suppose there's no other way. Get
into the back, Prentys; I'll ride in front with Lord Taborley."

He was glad to have something to occupy his attention--to be able to
talk without the necessity of regarding her. They were both embarrassed
by the memory of their recent tempest of emotion. "Braithwaite! So
that's the name of the good fairy who gave us our day in the country. I
don't remember him; but that's not remarkable. Generals at the Front
were as common as policemen in London; you found one at every street
corner. As for trenchdwellers like myself, we never came in touch with
them except when we were in for a wigging. We came in touch with them
all right then."

She made no remark. He had the feeling that she was annoyed with herself
for having let the General's name escape her. Up to that point she had
referred to him anonymously as "a friend at the War Office." Tabs tried
to switch to another subject without making the change offensively
apparent. "Now that I'm a free man, I've got to reorganize a household."

She kindled into interest, "Taborley House is still a hospital, isn't
it?"

"Yes, I handed it over to the Americans. I was glad to do that for my
mother's sake. After all, I'm half American. At least a third of my
boyhood was spent in the States. But they're sending most of their
wounded home now, so I shall soon have it back on my hands. But that
wasn't what I meant. It was too big for me; I never lived there."

"Then what did you mean?"

He realized that she was encouraging him to continue talking because the
topic was safe--not because it held much attraction for her.

"What I meant was that I'll have to try to collect up my old servants. I
don't know where they all are, or who's alive and who's dead. There's
one man I'm