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Updated: June 2, 2025
She took care that her thanks should reward him. "Winnie," she burst out in the rose-coloured secrecy of the bedroom, "has Elise gone to bed? ... All right. Well, I'm lost. Madame Piniac is going to England to fetch me." "Has anything happened in this town?" asked Audrey of Miss Ingate. It was the afternoon of the day following their arrival in London from Paris, and it was a fine afternoon.
I don't know whether you know, but I used to make cigarettes in Constantinopoulos's window in Piccadilly. I don't see why I should be ashamed of it, d'you?" "Certainly not," said Miss Ingate. "But it is rather romantic, isn't it, Audrey?" Despite the terrific interest of the adventure of the cigarette girl, disappointment began immediately after landing.
Ye gods, Winnie, you should hear him talk about ladies and golf!" "I have," said Miss Ingate. "But it doesn't ruffle me, because I don't play." "But he plays with girls, and young girls, too, all the same. He's been caught in the act. Ethel told me. He little thinks I know. He'd let me play if he could be the only man on the course. He's mad about me and men.
In her mind she framed the note, which was to condemn Miss Ingate to the torture of complete and everlasting silence about the episode at the Blue City and the flight eastwards. "Fast, madam, did you say?" asked the chauffeur, bending his head back from the wheel as the car left the gates of Flank Hall. "Fast." "The Colchester road?" "Yes."
Miss Ingate says she shall go, too." It was these words in a highly emotionalised voice from Miss Nickall that, like a vague murmured message of vast events, drew the entire quartet away from the bright inebriated scene created by Monsieur Dauphin.
In the end they had all gone; Tommy had enigmatically looked in and gone, and Miss Ingate had gone to dine at the favourite restaurant of the hour in the Rue Léopold Robert. Audrey had refused to go, asserting that which was not true; namely, that she had had an enormous tea, including far too many petits fours.
The emptiness of the Foas' box indicated that Miss Ingate might be correct in her interpretation of signals, and Audrey allowed herself to be led away from the now forlorn auditorium.
Will you just look at the girl on the left hand in this window here, and tell me whether I'm dreaming or not?" Miss Ingate indicated the shop window which had arrested her.
They climbed a broad, curving, carpeted staircase. "We're here," said Audrey to Miss Ingate after scores of stairs. Miss Ingate, breathless, could only smile. And Audrey profoundly felt that she was in Paris. The mere shape of the doorknob by the side of a brass plate lettered "Madame Dubois" told her that she was in an exotic land.
Gradually the man, very tousled and dirty, clustered all the bags and parcels around his person, and walked off. Audrey and Miss Ingate meekly following. The great roof of the station resounded to whistles and the escape of steam and the clashing of wagons. Beyond the platforms there were droves of people, of whom nearly every individual was preoccupied and hurried. And what people!
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