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Lydia had been surprised to receive a visit from this elegant lady, and had readily accepted the story of her friendship with James Meredith. Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's invitation she had welcomed. She needed some distraction, something which would smooth out the ravelled threads of life which were now even more tangled than she had ever expected they could be. Mr.
She had seen a large bottle of peroxide in Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's room. It probably contributed to the dazzling glories of Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's hair, but it was also a powerful germicide. She soaked a big silk handkerchief in a basin of water, to which she added a generous quantity of the drug, and squeezing the handkerchief nearly dry, she knotted it loosely about her neck.
By some extraordinary means he had kept her out of the Meredith case and she had not been called as a witness at the inquest. "I am going to Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's to tea," she said. "Mrs. Cole-Mortimer?" he said quickly. "How do you come to know that lady?" "Really, Mr. Glover, you are almost impertinent," she smiled in spite of her annoyance.
They drove back part of the way they had come, on to the peninsula of Cap Martin and she had a glimpse of beautiful villas between the pines and queer little roads that led into mysterious dells. Lydia, who thought that this was Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's own demesne, was delighted. "You are lucky to have a beautiful home like this, Mrs. Cole-Mortimer," she said, "it must be heavenly living here."
"They must have poured buckets of water over it, and used up all Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's peroxide, what she uses for keeping her hands nice." Jean swung out of her bed and sat looking down at her tiny white feet. "Where did Mrs. Meredith sleep? Why didn't she wake us up?" "She slept in the dressing-room, miss. I don't suppose the young lady liked making a fuss." "Who did it?"
There was something so mysterious, so ugly in his outlook on life, and there might not be a little self-interest in his care for her. She stood on the step of the house talking to the girl, whilst Mr. Briggerland lit a cigarette with a patent lighter. Hyde Park Crescent was deserted save for a man who stood near the railings which protected the area of Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's house.
She, herself, she explained to her discomforted hostess, was ready to go back at once, and the prolongation of Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's stay depended upon Lydia's plans. A startling switch of cause and effect, for Mrs. Cole-Mortimer had understood that Jean's will controlled the plans of the party.
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