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Updated: June 2, 2025
At twenty minutes past nine the audience had coalesced and become an entity, and the group from the Quarter was stamping an imitation of the first bars of the C minor Symphony, to indicate that further delay might involve complications. Audrey sat with Miss Ingate modestly and inconspicuously in the fifth row of the stalls.
"I was away for a little fishing, and I only heard the sad news when I got back home at noon to-day. I came over at once." He cleared his throat and looked first at Audrey and then at Miss Ingate. He felt that he ought to be addressing Audrey, but somehow he could not help addressing Miss Ingate instead.
Susan was spreading jam on a slice of bread-and-butter for the one-armed Nick. "I dare say you don't remember me playing the barrel organ all down Regent Street that day, do you?" said Miss Ingate. "Oh, yes; quite well. You were magnificent!" answered Jane, with blue eyes sparkling. "Well, though I only just saw you I was so busy I should remember you anywhere, Miss Foley," said Miss Ingate.
I think that'll be the best place for me. I said that night in Paris that I'd get my arm broken, but I've changed my mind about that." She rose. "Winnie," protested Audrey, "aren't you going to see it out?" "No," said Miss Ingate. "Are you afraid?" "I don't know that I'm afraid. I played the barrel organ all the way down Regent Street, and it was smashed to pieces.
She caught him sharply by the arm. He shook free and walked quickly away up the platform, guided by a wise instinct for avoiding a scene in front of fellow-travellers. She followed close after him, talking with rapidity. They receded. Audrey and Miss Ingate leaned out of the windows to watch, and still farther and farther out.
This man, Musa, and the two chauffeurs entered swiftly into a complex altercation, which endured until Audrey had paid the chauffeurs and all the trunks had been transported behind the immense door and the door bangingly shut. "Vehy amusing, isn't it?" whispered Miss Ingate caustically to Audrey. "Aren't they dears?" "Madame Dubois's establishment is on the third and fourth floors," said Nick.
This is Miss Susan Foley, sister of Jane Foley. Jane will be here for tea. Susan Miss Ingate and Mrs. Moncreiff." Susan gave a grim bob. "Is Jane Foley coming? Does she live here?" asked Miss Ingate, properly impressed by the name of her who was the St. George of Suffragism, and perhaps the most efficient of all militants. "Audrey, we are in luck!"
But she quitted the staggering frolic without a sigh; for she carried within her a frolic surpassing anything exterior or physical. The immense flickering boulevard with its double roadway stretched away to the horizon on either hand, empty. "What time is it?" asked Miss Ingate. Tommy looked at her wrist-watch. "Don't tell me! Don't tell me!" cried Audrey.
Now, I'll go upstairs and Aguilar shall lock me in the tank-room and push the key under the door. We are causing you a lot of trouble, Mrs. Moncreiff, but you won't mind. It might have been so much worse." She laughed as she went. "And suppose I meet those police on the way out, what am I to say to them?" asked Miss Ingate when Jane Foley and Aguilar had departed.
The studio, the lamp, Rosamund with her miraculous self-complacency, Nick with her soft, mad eyes and wistful voice, the blundering ruthless Miss Ingate, all seemed intensely absurd to her. Everything seemed absurd except dancing and revelry and coloured lights and strange disguises and sensuous contacts.
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