THE AWKWARD AGE
"And when do they arrive?"
"Any day, I believe."
"Has he written you?"
"No," said Mrs. Brook—"there it is. That's just the way we've fallen to pieces. But you'll of course have heard something."
"Never a word."
"Ah, then, it's complete."
Vanderbank thought a moment. "Not quite, is it?—I mean it won't be altogether unless he hasn't written Nanda."
"Then has he?"—she was keen again.
"Oh, I'm assuming. Don't you know?"
"How should I?"
This too he turned over. "Just as a consequence of your having, at Tishy's, so abruptly and wonderfully tackled the question that, a few days later, as I afterwards gathered, was to be crowned with a measure of success not yet exhausted. Why, in other words—if it was to know so little about her and to get no nearer to her—did you secure Nanda's return?"
There was a clear reason, her face said, if she could only remember it. "Why did I—?" Then as catching a light: "Fancy your asking me—at this time of day!"
"Ah, you have noticed that I haven't asked before? However," Van promptly added, "I know well enough what you notice. Nanda hasn't mentioned to you whether or no she has heard?"
"Absolutely not. But you don't suppose, I take it, that it was to pry into her affairs that I called her in."
Vanderbank, on this, lighted for the first time with a laugh. "'Called her in'? How I like your expressions!"
"I do then, in spite of all," she eagerly asked, "remind you a little of the bon temps? Ah," she sighed, "I don't say anything good now. But of course I see Jane
370
