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Updated: June 2, 2025
Moncreiff had so much business to do and people to see. I don't know what it all was. She's very mysterious." As a fact, Audrey had had an interview with Mr. Foulger, who, with laudable obedience, had come up to town from Chelmsford in response to a telegram. Miss Ingate was aware of this, but she was not aware of other and more recondite interviews which Audrey had accomplished.
Lady Southminster retorted with disdain. "That's an omen, that is" pointing to the words on the cover of the magazine. "What else could it be? I ask you." When Miss Ingate returned the child was fast asleep. Miss Ingate was paler than usual.
Miss Ingate, prodigious in crimson, was in a state of beatitude, because she never went to concerts and imagined that she had inadvertently slipped into heaven. The mere size of the orchestra so overwhelmed her that she was convinced that it was an orchestra specially enlarged to meet the unique importance of Musa's genius. "They must think highly of him!" she said.
Also they had thought that it would be nice for the travellers to be met at the terminus, especially as Miss Ingate had been very particularly recommended to Miss Thompkins by a whole group of people in London. It was Miss Thompkins who had supplied the address of reliable furnished rooms, and she and Nick would personally introduce the ladies to their landlady, who was a sweet creature.
Audrey would have turned upon her and slain her had she not been busy with the tremendous realisation of the fact that by a glance and a gesture she had conquered the customs official a foreigner and a stranger. She wanted to be alone and to think. Just as the trunk was being relocked, Audrey heard an American girlish voice behind her: "Now, you must be Miss Ingate!"
"They never want to be jolly," said Miss Ingate. "If they feel as if they couldn't help being jolly, then they hire a private room somewhere and draw the blinds down." With no more words, Audrey seized Miss Ingate by the arm and they walked off, out of the square and into empty and silent streets where highly disciplined gas-lamps kept strict watch over the deportment of colossal houses.
At that moment the musical critic with large, dark Eastern eyes, whom Audrey had met at the Foas', strolled nonchalantly by, and, perceiving Miss Ingate, described a huge and perfect curve in the air with his glossy silk hat, which had been tipped at the back of his head. Mr. Gilman had come close to Audrey. "The Foas started down with me," said Mr. Gilman mildly.
"Mother!" cried Audrey, and then sank like a sack. "Why! The little thing's fainted!" Miss Ingate exclaimed in a voice suddenly hoarse. Audrey and Miss Ingate were in the late Mathew Moze's study, fascinated as much unconsciously as consciously by the thing which since its owner's death had grown every hour more mysterious and more formidable the safe. It was a fine afternoon.
She was indeed obviously frightened at the idea of remaining in Calais alone, even till the next express. She said that her husband's "man" would meet the train in Paris. She ate plenteously with Audrey and Miss Ingate in the refreshment-room, and she would not leave them nor allow them to leave her. The easiest course was to let her have her way, and she had it.
Well, perhaps, after all, you'd better not tell him. It might make him conceited.... Now, look here, Winnie, do hurry up, and let's go out and post those letters. I can't stand this huge house. I keep on imagining all the empty rooms in it. Hurry up and come along." Shortly afterwards Miss Ingate shouted downstairs into the earth: "Miss Foley, we're both just going out to post some letters."
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