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In Whitehall Di
“A Post Office!” she said. “He couldn’t change his mind, could he?”
“I have his word. Your brother will be released to-night.”
“Oh! Mr. Ferrar!” Tears suddenly came out of her eyes. She turned away to hide them, and when she turned back to him, he was not there.
CHAPTER 37
When from that Post Office she had despatched telegrams to her father and Jean, and telephoned to Fleur, to Adrian and Hilary, she took a taxi to Mount Street, and opened the door of her Uncle’s study. Sir Lawrence, before the fire with a book he was not reading, looked up.
“What’s your news, Di
“Saved!”
“Thanks to you!”
“Bobbie Ferrar says, thanks to the Magistrate. I nearly wrecked it, Uncle.”
“Ring the bell!” Di
“Blore, tell Lady Mont I want her.”
“Good news, Blore; Mr. Hubert’s free.”
“Thank you, Miss; I was laying six to four on it.”
“What can we do to relieve our feelings, Di
“I must go to Condaford, Uncle.”
“Not till after di
“Uncle Adrian said I’d better not, and he would go. Hubert will make for the flat, of course, and wait for Jean.”
Sir Lawrence gave her a whimsical glance.
“Where will she be flying from?”
“Brussels.”
“So that was the centre of operations! The closing down of that enterprise gives me almost as much satisfaction, Di
“I think they might have,” said Di
“I was dressin’. Blore’s won four pounds. Di
“But need you, Auntie?”
“Yes. Di
“Do you get a commission on kissing, Aunt Em?”
“Don’t tell me he wasn’t goin’ to cut Hubert out of prison, or something. The Rector said he flew in with a beard one day, and took a spirit level and two books on Portugal. They always go to Portugal. The Rector’ll be so relieved; he was gettin’ thin about it. So I think you ought to kiss him.”
“A kiss means nothing nowadays, Auntie. I nearly kissed Bobbie Ferrar; only he saw it coming.”
“Di
“Your Uncle’s got a bee, Di
By the only late evening train Di
“Dad! Haven’t you had my wire? It’s all right, Hubert’s free.”
The General’s hands shot up and grasped her wrists, colour came into his face, his lips relaxed, he looked suddenly ten years younger.
“Is it—is it certain, Di
Di
“My God! That’s news! Come in! I must go up and tell your Mother!” He was out of the room before she was in it.
In this room, which had resisted her mother’s and her own attempts to introduce aestheticism, and retained an office-like barre
She had the feeling that her mother and he would rather be left alone to rejoice, and slipped upstairs to Clare’s room. That vivid member of the family was asleep with one pyjama-d arm outside the sheet and her cheek resting on the back of the hand. Di