BOOK TENTH: NANDA
This he took up with more gravity. "What do you mean by chances? That you're going away? That will add to the attraction!" he exclaimed as she kept silence.
"I shall have to wait," she answered at last, "to tell you definitely what I'm to do. It's all in the air—yet I think I shall know to-day. I'm to see Mr. Longdon."
Mitchy wondered. "To-day?"
"He's coming at half past six."
"And then you'll know?"
"Well—he will."
"Mr. Longdon?"
"I meant Mr. Longdon," she said after a moment.
Mitchy had his watch out. "Then shall I interfere?"
"There are quantities of time. You must have your tea. You see at any rate," the girl continued, "what I mean by your chances."
She had made him his tea, which he had taken. "You do squeeze us in!"
"Well, it's an accident your coming together—except of course that you're not together. I simply took the time that you each independently proposed. But it would have been all right even if you had met. That is, I mean," she explained, "even if you and Mr. Longdon do. Mr. Van, I confess, I did want alone."
Mitchy had been glaring at her over his tea. "You're more and more remarkable!"
"Well then, if I improve so, give me your promise."
Mitchy, as he partook of refreshment, kept up his thoughtful gaze. "I shall presently want some more, please. But do you mind my asking if Van knew—"
"That Mr. Longdon's to come? Oh yes, I told him, and he left with me a message for him."
"A message? How awfully interesting!"
Nanda thought. "It will be, awfully—to Mr. Longdon."
"Some more now, please," said Mitchy while she took
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