"It's very unjust, I take it, for he was
certainly devoted to Hastings, and saved his life, they say. But
Arabs are often like that, loyal to one man. I can't help feeling he
might cut anybody else's throat, and even do it treacherously."
"Well," said Travers, with a rather sour smile, "so long as he
leaves Hastings alone the world won't mind much."
There was a rather embarrassing silence, full of memories of the
great battle, and then Horne Fisher said, quietly:
"The newspapers aren't the world, Tom. Don't you worry about them.
Everybody in your world knows the truth well enough."
"I think we'd better not talk about the general just now," remarked
Grayne, "for he's just coming out of the club."
"He's not coming here," said Fisher. "He's only seeing his wife to
the car."
As he spoke, indeed, the lady came out on the steps of the club,
followed by her husband, who then went swiftly in front of her to
open the garden gate. As he did so she turned back and spoke for a
moment to a solitary man still sitting in a cane chair in the shadow
of the doorway, the only man left in the deserted club save for the
three that lingered in the garden. Fisher peered for a moment into
the shadow, and saw that it was Captain Boyle.
The next moment, rather to their surprise, the general reappeared
and, remounting the steps, spoke a word or two to Boyle in his turn.
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