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He was now out of his articles, though still by the force of inertia at the office, and therefore he informed John Orgreave that unless Mr. John had any objection he proposed to take an hour off. Mr. Enwright was not in. Lucas knew vaguely of the rendezvous, having somewhere met Laurencine. From the outside Prosser's was not distinguishable from any other part of Regent Street.
George was attracted to Laurencine, in whom he saw no likeness to her sister Lois. She could not long have left school.
Whether her envelope contained more than one, whether the epistle which I saw is written in the style usually practised by the present age, whether it was composed for the special purpose of being shown to me, I do not know, and discretion and nice gentlemanly feeling forbid me to inquire. However " At this point, Laurencine snatched her father's napkin off his knees and put it on her own.
Which of them do you prefer? It's no good me having one you don't like." He had been unjust to her, then. "It's really her birthday present," said Laurencine, "only a bit late. Oh! Dear! Darling, do sit down, you're standing too long." Both Laurencine and the young woman in black regarded Lois with soft compassion, and she sat down. Laurencine too was a mother. But she had retained her girlhood.
The figure of Laurencine, whose back was towards the window, received an aura from the electric light immediately over the music-stand of the piano. She played brilliantly. She played with a brilliance that astonished George.... She was exceedingly clever, was this awkward girl who had not long since left school Her body might be awkward, but not her hands.
"You don't mean to say " Mrs. Clayhanger began. George nodded. "She must have had a shock. I knew what it would be for her. It's all very well, but " Mrs. Clayhanger again left a sentence unfinished. "I've sent for Laurencine too," said George. "She also may be here any minute." "Oh!" said the old lady tartly. "I can stay as long as you like, you know. Lois and I get on splendidly." It was true.
And another strange phenomenon: if Laurencine had been self-conscious, George also was self-conscious; and he avoided Lois's eyes! Why? He wondered whether the circumstances in which he had come to Paris and entered the Ingram home were as simple and ordinary as they superficially appeared. "Laurencine," said her mother, "give your father back his serviette!" "Mine's fallen."
When she sat down, George on her right, Lucas on her left, and the tall, virginal Laurencine Ingram opposite, she was the principal person in the restaurant. George had already passed from disappointment to an impressed nervousness. The inquisitive diners might all have been quizzing him instead of Irene Wheeler.
Then Everard Lucas opened the piano, and the duel between him and Laurencine was resumed. The girl yielded. Electric lights were adjusted. She began to play, while Lucas, smoking, leaned over the piano. George was standing by himself at a little distance behind the piano.
It had to be raised four times before the gratefully appreciative clapping would cease. The auditorium shone with light; it grew murmurous with ecstatic approval. The virginal face of Laurencine shot its rapture to Lucas as she turned to shake hands with George. "Jolly well done, isn't it?" said Lucas. "Yes," said George.
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