One had _merely_ to go by contraries and her
prophecies were most useful.
'It's been jolly for you,' Bruce said to Edith, 'having a ripping time
in town while I'm taking your visitors about to show them England.'
'You wouldn't have cared for the theatre,' she said. 'But, fancy, I met
Aylmer's son there--Aylmer Ross, you know. Aylmer himself is at the
front. They have taken their old house again. He means to come
back there.'
'Well, I really can't help it,' said Bruce rather fretfully. '_I_ should
be at the front if it weren't for my neurotic heart. The doctor wouldn't
hear of passing me--at least one wouldn't. Any fellow who would have
done so would be--not a careful man. However, I don't know that it
wouldn't have been just as good to die for my country, and get some
glory, as to die of heart trouble here.' He sighed.
'Oh no, you won't,' said Edith reassuringly; 'you look the picture of
health.'
'I've got a bit of sunburn, I think,' said Bruce, popping up to look in
the glass. 'Funny how I do catch the sun. I asked Dr Pollock about
it one day.'
'Really--did you consult him about your sunburn?'
'Yes. What are you smiling at, He said it's caused by the extreme
delicacy of the mucous membrane; nothing to be anxious about.
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