'That is hard luck!' She looked down for a moment and her long lashes veiled her eyes as she added, 'I suppose they have their hands pretty full at the moment.'
'That's about it!' he agreed, 'and I expect you have too; so I mustn't keep you.' Then, as he stood up, he said on a sudden impulse. I suppose you wouldn't care to dine with me one night?'
The expression on her small aristocratic face remained noncommittal and she replied quietly: 'That depends. Quite a lot of our men who have returned from doing jobs abroad ask me out to dinner. Many of them have been through a most appalling time, and they know that it will be only a week or two before they have to go off and risk their lives again. Some of them think that entitles them to expect me, or other girls in the office, to… er… play parlour games with them after dinner. I wish I could, because I feel terribly sorry for them. But…'
With a wry smile, Gregory checked her in my case you've no need to worry about that. I'm head over heels in love with someone already; but I've made a ghastly mess of things so I'm feeling desperately unhappy. I'm afraid it's rather a backhanded compliment to anyone so young and lovely as yourself; but I was just hoping that you might be kind enough to come out with me for a chat, and so take my mind off my worries for an evening.'
Her face immediately radiated sweetness and compassion. 'But of course I will! How beastly for you. When shall it be? I'm afraid I can't make it tonight, but tomorrow if you like.'
'Thanks,' he smiled. 'I think your heart must be the same true gold as your hair. It's very gracious of you. Anyway, war or no war, at least I can promise you a good meal, with no strings attached.' They arranged that he should call for her at her office at six o'clock, and he left her rather wondering at himself, but glad that he had followed his impulse.
He took her to the Hungaria, knowing that, however scarce steaks, ducks, and Dover soles might be, his old friend Vecchi could always be relied on to provide them with a good main course, instead of the awful made-up dishes which were all that restaurants could now offer to the majority of their customers.
As they drank their cocktails he told her how untouched by the war Budapest still remained and what a good time he had had there until he had had to go to earth in a hurry. She remarked how much her mother and stepfather had enjoyed their visits there before the war; and from that, to their mutual surprise, it emerged that her stepfather was the airman on the Joint Planning Staff with whom Gregory had been in H.M.S. Worcester. That provided them with plenty to talk about through dinner; which was a good thing in view of the unwritten law that people employed in secret war organizations should never discuss war activities in public places.
After dinner they danced twice, then fell a little silent. During a pause longer than usual Diana powdered her aquiline nose which with her oval face and good forehead made her look like a small edition of Queen Marie Antoinette snapped her compact shut, and said:
'Now, tell me about this mess that you've got into with your girlfriend.'
He shook his head. 'I didn't take you out to bore you with my troubles.'
She had been chain-smoking American cigarettes, and lit another. 'Don't if you would rather not. But for some reason people who are older than I am often seem to find it helps to talk over their problems with me. I suppose that's really only because they have got it off their chests; but, anyway, I'm a good listener.'
'Be it on your own head, then,' Gregory smiled, and for the next twenty minutes she interrupted now and then only to ask him to give her a fuller picture of the backgrounds of Erika, Sabine and himself.
When he had done, she said, 'I think you were an awful fool not to have followed her to the country right away.'
'As I've told you, I was terrified of her going off on her own and doing something desperate.'
'I don't believe she would have for a moment. She's not a little thing just out of a convent, or a neurotic. You say she stood up to beatings by the Gestapo, and risked her life with you many times in Germany. Women who have the courage to do that never commit suicide. The worst that could happen is that she would run out on you. But what does that matter? In your position you could get the Special Branch to trace her for you within a couple of days. Then you could go after her again. And if need be keep on chasing her until she does forgive you. That is the way to convince a woman that you really love her. How can she be expected to believe you do while you just sit here in London doing nothing about it?'
'I suppose there is something in that,' Gregory murmured a shade doubtfully.
'Something!' Diana repeated, looking at him from under her long lashes with a suggestion of contempt. 'Everything! Why,. the poor woman doesn't even know yet that you didn't just go off the rails for fun, but got yourself into a position where you practically had to sleep with this Hungarian girl. Your Erika is a woman of the world, and if she has played tag with the Gestapo she must know that there are times when secret agents of both sexes have to do that sort of thing to save their lives. If she does love you it's unthinkable that she would have preferred you to keep your halo and be dead.'
Gregory looked across at the small, strong beautiful face opposite to him with sudden admiration. 'I hadn't thought of it in that way. But, of course, you're right. I've been allowing my wretchedness to cloud my wits. Thank you a thousand times for letting in some daylight. I'll go up to Gwaine Meads just as soon as I can get a night off from the office.'
The next day was Sunday and, as Gregory was due for forty-eight hours' leave, he had no difficulty in arranging that he should take it from Monday morning. He reached Gwaine Meads soon after lunch and found Erika in her office, dealing as usual with the hospital accounts. She looked thin and ill and at once declared that she had no intention of discussing matter with him.
Imbued with an entirely new spirit since his evening with Diana, he thrust out his long jaw and said, 'Yes you will. Like it or not you are going to listen to me. But I can't say what I have to say where we may be overheard.' Taking her topcoat from a hook on the door he held it for her and added, 'Come on. Put this on and come out into the garden. If you won't I'm carry you out as you are, then you'll catch your death of cold; so you had much better be sensible.'
'Very well.' Her splendid blue eyes above the high check bones regarded him stonily. 'Since you insist. But I warn you that if you remain here afterwards I shall take an evening train to somewhere where you can't find me.'
He ignored her remark and they went out into the garden. It was October the 19th, and a cold wintry day; so not the happiest place in which to attempt a reconciliation. But he was now determined to beat down her defences, and as they began to walk up and down the lawn he plunged at once into his story. He did not attempt to excuse himself but gave a strictly factual account of the whole affair.
When he had finished she asked, 'Why didn't you come up here and tell me all this before?'
'God alone knows!' he exclaimed irritably. 'It was really old Pellinore. He put it into my head that if I drove you into solitude you might commit suicide. I was so desperately worried that I hadn't the sense to realize that you are much too well balanced to do anything like that.'
She gave him a quick look. 'I very nearly did the night I got back here. It would have been easy enough to get something from the dispensary. I had half a mind to, because I really felt that I'd come to the end of everything.'