“What’s the matter?”

Bernard threw back his head and grinned broadly with half shut eyes.  “Ha, ha! by Gad, that’s funny—­that’s very funny.  Why, Val knows him!”

“Knows Lawrence?  I never heard Val mention his name.”

“No, my love, but one can’t get Val to open his lips on that subject.  Lawrence and I were in the same battalion.  He was there when Val got his ribbon.”

“Really?  That will be nice for Val, meeting him again.”

“Oh rather!” said Bernard Clowes.  “On my word it’s a shame and I’ve half a mind . . ..  No, let him come:  let him come and be damned to the pair of them!  Straighten me out, will you?” He was liable like most paralytics to mechanical jerks and convulsions which drove him mad with impatience.  Laura drew down the helplessly twitching knee, and ran one firm hand over him from thigh to ankle.  Her touch had a mesmeric effect on his nerves when he could endure it, but nine times out of ten he struck it away.  He did so now.  “Go to the devil!  How often have I told you not to paw me about?  I wish you’d do as you’re told.  What do you call him Lawrence for?”

“I always did.  But I’ll call him Captain Hyde if you like—­”

“‘Mr.,’ you mean:  he’s probably dropped the ‘Captain.’  He was only a ‘temporary.’”

“For all that, he has stuck to his prefix,” said Laura smiling.  “Lucian chaffed him about it.  But Lawrence was always rather a baby in some ways:  clocked socks to match his ties, and astonishing adventures in jewellery, and so on.  Oh yes, I knew him very well indeed when I was a girl.  Mr. and Mrs. Hyde were among the last of the old set who kept up with us after father was turned out of his clubs.  I’ve stayed at Farringay.”

“You never told me that!”

“I never thought of telling you.  Lawrence hasn’t been near us since we came to Wanhope and I don’t recollect your ever mentioning his name.  You see I tell you now.”

“How old were you when you stayed at Farringay?”

“Twenty-two.  Lawrence and I are the same age.”

“And you knew him well, did you?”

“We were great friends,” said Mrs. Clowes, tossing a lump of sugar out of the window to a lame jackdaw.  She had many such pensioners, alike in a community of misfortune.  “And, yes, Berns, you’re right, we flirted a little—­only a little:  wasn’t it natural?  It was only for fun, because we were both young and it was such heavenly weather—­it was the Easter before war broke out.  No, he didn’t ask me to marry him!  Nothing was farther from his mind.”

“Did he kiss you?”

Laura slowly and smilingly shook her head.  “Am I, Yvonne?”

“But you liked the fellow?”