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Updated: June 11, 2025
Francis Braybrooke began to talk to Lady Sellingworth, and almost immediately Lady Wrackley and Mrs. Birchington joined them. "How marvellous you look, Adela!" said Lady Wrackley, staring with her birdlike eyes. "You will cut us all out. I must go to Geneva. Have you heard about Beryl? But of course you have.
But as she continued to weep, and as her body went on trembling, Lady Sellingworth at last could not bear it any longer. She felt that she must do something, must try to help her, and she put a hand on the girl's shoulder gently. "Beryl!" she said. "Beryl! I didn't want to hurt you, but I had to tell you." The girl suddenly turned and caught her by the arms.
Craven will get you a taxi," said Miss Van Tuyn. "Shall we go?" They fared forth into the London night Craven last. He realized that Miss Van Tuyn had made up her mind to keep both him and Jennings as her possessions of the evening, and to send Lady Sellingworth, if she would go home early, back to Berkeley Square without an escort.
Number 18A, Berkeley Square was a large town mansion, and on the green front door there was a plate upon which was engraved in bold lettering, "The Dowager Countess of Sellingworth." Craven looked at this plate and at the big knocker above it as he rang the electric bell. Almost as soon as he had pressed the button the big door was opened, and a very tall footman in a pale pink livery appeared.
And nothing makes the atmosphere so cold about a man or woman as the egoism which shows itself in miserliness, or in the unwillingness that others should have a good time. When Lady Sellingworth was thirty-nine Lord Sellingworth died abruptly. The doctors said that his heart was worn out; others said something different, something less kind.
On the occasion in question, after chatting for about an hour, he happened to mention Lady Sellingworth "Adela Sellingworth," as he called her. Craven did not know her, and said so in the simplest way. "I don't know Lady Sellingworth." Braybrooke sat for a moment in silence looking at Craven over his carefully trimmed grey and brown beard. "How very strange!" he said at last. "Why is it strange?"
In the distance on the left he saw the tall figure of a woman walking slowly near a lamp-post, and he hurried down the street. As his footsteps rang on the pavement the woman turned round, and showed the white face and luminous eyes of Lady Sellingworth. "You have given me quite a turn, as the servants say!" he exclaimed, coming up to her. "What is the matter? Are you ill?"
"I've had your letter." As she spoke she drew it out of the muff she was carrying. "I was obliged to write it," said Lady Sellingworth. "It was my duty to write it." "Yes?" "But I don't want to discuss it." They were both still standing. Now Miss Van Tuyn said; "Do you mind if I sit down?" "No; do sit." "And may I take off my coat?" Lady Sellingworth was obliged to say: "Yes, do."
Craven spoke to her through the music. She looked at him, answered him. Then once more she glanced down the room. Beryl and Arabian had sat down. Beryl was facing her. Arabian was at the side. Lady Sellingworth still saw him in profile. He was talking to the waitress. "I am sure I know that man's face!" Lady Sellingworth thought. And she expressed her thought to Craven.
Having this inordinate belief and this strong self-assurance, having also youth and beauty, and remembering certain little things which seemed to her proof positive that Craven was quite as susceptible to physical emotions as are most healthy and normal young men, she wondered why he had not returned to the Cafe Royal after leaving Lady Sellingworth decorously at her door.
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