“Oh—er—yes—of course,” I murmured, in duty bound.

But I was so utterly dazed by this unlooked-for flight-off-at-a-tangent of the Governor’s that I heard myself answering as if in a dream the questions he put next.

“Twenty-one. You’re of age, then,” I heard him saying through the daze. “Both parents dead: m’m. No one else belonging to you?”

“One brother in South Africa,” my lips answered mechanically. And my inward wonder, “What on earth has that got to do with Mr. Waters?” was mingled with an added dull twinge of anxiety. For I haven’t heard from poor old rolling-stoney Jack for three months or more.

“No one belonging to you in London? M’m. And you’re dependent for your living upon what you earn here?”

(Yes! or else I shouldn’t have to sit here answering questions about things that are absolutely no business of yours! was what I thought rebelliously.) I said aloud, reluctantly, “Yes.”

“Where do you live, then—alone?”

“I share rooms with another girl in Battersea,” I had to tell him, still wondering resentfully what in the world might be the meaning[15] of this catechism. Wasn’t it the prelude to dismissal, after all, then? Wasn’t he preparing to be hateful and sarcastic, and to tell me he felt my talents were being wasted at the Near Oriental (this is one of Mr. Dundonald’s pet clichés), and that he advised me to look out elsewhere for a better position at a higher salary—if I could get it? What would be the next question, then?

[15]

It was the last thing that I should have dreamed of his asking.

“Do you mind telling me, Miss Trant, whether you are engaged to be married?”

Engaged? I? What could he want to know that for?

That was less his business, even, than any of the other questions he’d put!

It seemed doubly odd, since I had been meditating on the possibility of “getting engaged” that very morning. Ever since twelve o’clock, the mental image of Sydney Vandeleur’s picturesque, dark face, with his small Vandyke beard and gentle, adoring brown eyes, had been very near me. There was always Sydney in the background, of course. Backgrounds don’t count, presumably. Even if they did, though, what concern was it of my business employer’s? I did wish I had enough 

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