er hot water, she was suddenly aware
of the girl's round blue eyes wandering, as it were, mechanically to
her hand. This little hoop of gold, then, had an awful power! A rush
of disgust came over her. All life seemed suddenly a thing of forms
and sham. Everybody then would look at that little ring; and she was a
coward, saving herself from them! When she was alone again, she slipped
it off, and laid it on the washstand, where the sunlight fell. Only this
little shining band of metal, this little yellow ring, stood between her
and the world's hostile scorn! Her lips trembled. She took up the ring,
and went to the open window; to throw it out. But she did not, uncertain
and unhappy--half realising the cruelty of life. A knock at the door
sent her flying back to the washstand. The visitor was Gratian.
"I've been looking at him," she said softly; "he's like you, Nollie,
except for his nose."
"He's hardly got one yet. But aren't his eyes intelligent? I think
they're wonderful." She held up the ring: "What shall I do about this,
Gratian?"
Gratian flushed. "Wear it. I don't see why outsiders should know. For
the sake of Dad I think you ought. There's the parish."
Noel slipped the ring back on to her finger. "Would you?"
"I can't tell. I think I would."
Noel laughed suddenly. "I'm going to get cynical; I can feel it in my
bones. How is Daddy looking?"
"Very thin; Mr. Lauder is back again from the Front for a bit, and
taking some of the work now."
"Do I hurt him very much still?"
"He's awfully pleased that you've come. He's as sweet as he can be about
you."
"Yes," murmured Noel, "that's what's dreadful. I'm glad he wasn't in
when I came. Has he told anyone?"
Gratian shook her head. "I don't think anybody knows; unless--perhaps
Captain Fort. He came in again the other night; and somehow--"
Noel flushed. "Leila!" she said enigmatically. "Have you seen her?"
"I went to her flat last week with Dad--he likes her."
"Delilah is her real name, you know. All men like her. And Captain Fort
is her lover."
Gratian gasped. Noel would say things sometimes which made her feel the
younger of the two.
"Of course he is," went on Noel in a hard voice. "She has no men
friends; her sort never have, only lovers. Why do you think he knows
about me?"
"When he asked after you he looked--"
"Yes; I've seen him look like that when he's sorry for anything. I don't
care. Has Monsieur Lavendie been in lately?"
"Yes
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