144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. ‘To where has he gone off?’ ‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat. Ennison had disappeared. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten.
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