Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. He donned his winter coat. ‘Why not a French flag?’ ‘Because I don’t believe that fool Pottiswick could tell French from Arabic, even if he heard it as he says he did—which I take leave to doubt. He said that his life was boring and stupid without her. ‘You see now how dangerous it is to play this lone hand. It occasionally troubled the major that Hilary’s staunch loyalty had led him into hair-raising exploits at Gerald’s side, for he was perfectly aware that Hilary would not have dreamed of deserting him.
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