Barbara calmly withdrew it from his grasp and brushed an
imaginary curl out of her eye.
"Any news of your hundred thousand pound kit?" she asked, by way
of turning the conversation.
"By Jove," said Desmond, "there was a letter from Cox's at the
club this morning but I was so rushed to catch my train that I
shoved it in my pocket and forgot all about it. I wrote and asked
them weeks ago to get my kit back from France. Here we are!"
He pulled a letter out of his pocket, slit open the envelope and
took out a printed form. Barbara, propping herself up with one
hand on his shoulder, leaned over him to read the communication.
This is what she read.
"We are advised," the form ran, "that a Wolseley valise forwarded
to you on the 16th inst. from France has been lost by enemy
action. We are enclosing a compensation form which..."
But neither troubled to read further.
"Gone to the bottom, by Jove!" cried Desmond. "But isn't it
strange," he went on, "to think of the Star of Poland lying out
there on the bed of the Channel? Well, I'm not so sure that it
isn't the best place for it. It won't create any further trouble
in this world at least!"
"Poor Nur-el-Din!" sighed the girl.
They sat awhile in silence together and watched the gulls
circling unceasingly above the receding tide.
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