The elements were all in
his mind, and in the secousse of a new and intense experience they
just struck light." She positively struck light herself--she was
literally, facially luminous. I stammered something about
unconscious cerebration, and she continued: "He'll come right
home--this will bring him."
"To see Vereker, you mean?"
"To see Vereker--and to see ME. Think what he'll have to tell me!"
I hesitated. "About India?"
"About fiddlesticks! About Vereker--about the figure in the
carpet."
"But, as you say, we shall surely have that in a letter."
She thought like one inspired, and I remembered how Corvick had
told me long before that her face was interesting. "Perhaps it
can't be got into a letter if it's 'immense.'"
"Perhaps not if it's immense bosh. If he has hold of something
that can't be got into a letter he hasn't hold of THE thing.
Vereker's own statement to me was exactly that the 'figure' WOULD
fit into a letter."
"Well, I cabled to George an hour ago--two words," said Gwendolen.
"Is it indiscreet of me to ask what they were?"
She hung fire, but at last brought them out. "'Angel, write.'"
"Good!" I exclaimed. "I'll make it sure--I'll send him the same."
CHAPTER VII.
My words however were not absolutely the same--I put something
instead of "angel"; and in the sequel my epithet seemed the more
apt, for when eventually we heard from our traveller it was merely,
it was thoroughly to be tantalised.
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