Chapter IX

Major Guthrie looked at Mrs. Otway meditatively.

Apart from his instinctive attraction for her -- an
attraction which had sprung into being the very first
time they had met, at a dinner party at the Deanery --
he had always regarded her as an exceptionally clever
woman. She was able to do so much more than most
of the ladies he had known. To his simple soldier mind
there was something interesting and, well, yes, rather
extraordinary, in a woman who sat on committees,
who could hold her own so well in argument, and
who yet remained very feminine, sometimes -- so he
secretly thought -- quite delightfully absurd and inconsequent,
with it all.

Major Guthrie had always been sorry that Mrs.
Otway and his mother didn't exactly hit it off. His
mother had once been a beauty, and was now a rather
shrewish, sharp-tongued old lady, who had outlived
most of the people and most of the things she had
cared for in life. Mrs. Otway irritated Mrs. Guthrie.
The old lady despised the still pretty widow's eager,
interested, enthusiastic outlook on life.

Suddenly Major Guthrie took a large pocket-book
out of his right breast pocket. He opened it, and
Mrs. Otway saw that it contained a packet of bank-
notes held together by an india-rubber band. There
was also an empty white envelope in the pocket-book.
Slipping off the band, he began counting the notes.

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