"I
told Atkinson I wished I had never set eyes on him, before I wished him
joy."
Olga got up.
"Look after Colonel Boucher, Georgie," she said, "and ring for anything
you want. Look at the moon! Isn't it heavenly. How Atkinson and
Elizabeth must be enjoying it."
The two men spent a half-hour of only moderately enjoyable
conversation, for Georgie kept the grindstone of the misery of his lot
without Atkinson, and the pleasure of companionship firmly to the
Colonel's nose. It was no use for him to attempt to change the subject
to the approaching tableaux, to a vague rumour that Piggy had fallen
face downwards in the ducking-pond, that Mrs Quantock and her husband
had turned a table this afternoon with remarkable results, for it had
tapped out that his name was Robert and hers Daisy. Whichever way he
turned, Georgie herded him back on to the stony path that he had been
bidden to take, with the result that when Georgie finally permitted him
to go into the music-room, he was athirst for the more genial
companionship of the ladies. Olga got up as they entered.
"Georgie's so lazy," she said, "that it's no use asking him. But do let
you and me have a turn up and down my garden, Colonel. There's a divine
moon and it's quite warm."
They stepped out into the windless night.
"Fancy it's being October," she said. "I don't believe there is any
winter in Riseholme, nor autumn either, for that matter.
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