“You are all very foolish,” Thomson said slowly.  “I am going to tell you something now, dear, which you may not believe, but it is for your good, and it is necessary for me to have some excuse for the request I am going to make.  Granet is under suspicion at the War Office.”

“Under suspicion?” Geraldine repeated blankly.

“Nothing has been proved against him,” Thomson continued, “and I tell you frankly that in certain quarters the idea is scouted as absurd.  On the other hand, he is under observation as being a possible German spy.”

Geraldine for a moment sat quite still.  Then she broke into a peal of laughter.  She sat up, a moment later, wiping her eyes.

“Are you really serious, Hugh?” she demanded.

“Absolutely,” he assured her, a little coldly.

She wiped her eyes once more.

“Hugh, dear,” she sighed, patting his hand, “you do so much better looking after your hospitals and your wounded than unearthing mare’s-nests like this.  I don’t think that you’d be a brilliant success in the Intelligence Department.  As to the War Office, well, you know what I think of them.  Captain Granet a German spy, indeed!”

“Neither the War Office nor I myself,” Thomson continued, “have arrived at these suspicions without some reason.  Perhaps you will look at the matter a little more seriously when I tell you that Captain Granet will not be allowed to return to the Front.”

“Not be allowed?” she repeated.  “Hugh, you are not serious!”

“I have never been more serious in my life,” he insisted.  “I am not in a position to tell you more than the bare facts or I might disclose some evidence which even you would have to admit throws a rather peculiar light upon some of this young man’s actions.  As it is, however, I can do no more than warn you, and beg you,” he went on, “to yield to my wishes in the matter of your further acquaintance with him.”

There was a moment’s rather curious silence.  Geraldine seemed to be gazing through the walls of the room.  Her hands were clenched in one another, her fingers nervously interlocked.

“I shall send for him to come and see me the first thing to-morrow morning,” she decided.

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Thomson objected firmly.

She turned her head and looked at him.  He was conscious of the antagonism which had sprung up like a wall between them.  His face, however, showed no sign.

“How do you propose to prevent me?” she asked, with ominous calm.

“By reminding you of your duty to your country,” he answered.  “Geraldine, dear, I did not expect to have to talk to you like this.  When I tell you that responsible people in the War Office, officials whose profession it is to scent out treachery, have declared this young man suspect, I am certainly disappointed to find you embracing his cause so fervently.  It is no personal matter.  Believe, me,”