For two months Tommy possessed his impulsive soul in patience. For two
months he watched Monck go his impassive and inscrutable way, asking no
further question. The gaieties of the station were in full swing.
Christmas was close at hand.

Stella was making definite plans for departure in the New Year. She
could not satisfy herself with an idle life, though Tommy vehemently
opposed the idea of her going. Monck never opposed it. He listened
silently when she spoke of it, sometimes faintly smiling. She often saw
him. He came to the Green Bungalow in Tommy's company at all hours of
the day. She met him constantly at the Club, and he never failed to come
to her side there and by some means known only to himself to banish the
crowd of subalterns who were wont to gather round her. He asserted no
claim, but the claim existed and was mutely recognized. He never spoke
to her intimately. He never attempted to pass the bounds of ordinary
friendship. Only very rarely did he make her aware that her company was
a pleasure to him. But the fact remained that she was the only woman
that he ever sought, and the tongues of all the rest were busy in
consequence.

As for Stella, she still told herself that she would escape with her
freedom. He would speak, she was convinced, before she left. She even
sometimes told herself that after what had passed between them, it was
almost incumbent upon him to speak. But she believed that he would
accept her refusal philosophically, possibly even with relief. She
restrained herself forcibly from dwelling upon the thought of him. Again
and again she reminded herself that he trod the way of ambition. His
heart was given to his work, and a man may not serve two masters. He
cared for her, probably, but in a calm, judicial fashion that could