"
"Straight along the top of this ridge for about three quarters of
a mile, sir, to the entrance of the harbour there."
"And then?"
"I have a petrol launch," Julian explained, "and I shall land you
practically in the dining room in another ten minutes."
"Let us proceed," Mr. Stenson suggested briskly. "What a queer
fellow Miles Furley is! Quite a friend of yours, isn't he, Miss
Abbeway?"
"I have seen a good deal of him lately," she answered, walking on
and making room for Stenson to fall into step by her side, but
still keeping her face a little averted. "A man of many but
confused ideas; a man, I should think, who stands an evil chance
of muddling his career away."
"We offered him a post in the Government," Stenson ruminated.
"He had just sense enough to refuse that, I suppose," she
observed, moving slowly to the right and thereby preventing Julian
from taking a place by her side. "Yet," she went on, "I find in
him the fault of so many Englishmen, the fault that prevents their
becoming great statesmen, great soldiers, or even," she added
coolly, "successful lovers."
"And what is that?" Julian demanded.
She remained silent. It was as though she had heard nothing. She
caught Mr. Stenson's arm and pointed to a huge white seagull,
drifting down the wind above their heads.
"To think," she said, "with that model, we intellectuals have
waited nearly two thousand years for the aeroplane!"
CHAPTER VIII
According to plans made earlier in the day, a small shooting party
left the Hall immediately after luncheon and did not return until
late in the afternoon.
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