Lawrence Hyde, offering to come here for a day or two."

"Lawrence Hyde? Why, I haven't seen or heard of him for years,"
Clowes raised his head with a gleam of interest. "I remember him
well enough though. Good-looking chap, six foot two or three and
as strong as a horse. Well-built chap, too. Women ran after
him. I haven't seen him since we were in the trenches together."

"Yes, Bernard. Don't you recollect his going to see you in
hospital?"

"So he did, by Jove! I'd forgotten that. He'd ten days' leave
and he chucked one of them away to look me up. Not such a bad
sort, old Lawrence."

"I liked him very much," said Laura quietly.

"Wants to come to us, does he? Why? Where does he write from?"

"Paris. It seems he ran across Lucian at Auteuil--"

"Let me see the letter."

Laura give it over. "Calls you Laura, does he?" Clowes read it
aloud with a running commentary of his own. "H'm: pleasant
relationship, cousins-in-law. . . 'Met Lucian . . . chat about
old times'--is he a bird of Lucian's feather, I wonder? He
wasn't keen on women in the old days, but people change a lot
in ten years . . . 'Like to come and see us while he's in
England . . . run over for the day'--bosh, he knows we should