I'd make the
Foreign Secretary give you exactly what you wanted, even if it took you
far, far from me."
With that, he looked at me suddenly, and his face grew slowly red, under
the brown.
"You are a very kind Imp," he said. "Imp" is the name he invented for
me. I loved to hear him call me by it.
"Kind!" I echoed. "One isn't kind when one--likes--people."
I saw by his eyes, then, that he knew. But I didn't care. If only I
could make him say the words I longed to hear--even because he pitied
me, because he had found out how I loved him, and because he had really
too much of the dark-young-Crusader-knight in him, to break my heart! I
made up my mind that I would take him at his word, quickly, if he gave
me the chance; and I would tell Di that he was dreadfully in love with
me. That would make her writhe.
I kept my eyes on him, and I let them tell him everything. He saw; there
was no doubt of that; but he did not say the words I hoped for. A moment
or two he was silent; and then, gazing away towards the door of the
ballroom, he spoke very gently, as if I had been a child--though I am
older than Di by three or four years.
"Thank you, Imp, for letting me see that you are such a staunch little
friend," said he.
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