Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. It was dated from the House of Commons on the previous day. Gianfrancesco’s had curved differently and was darker. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way. She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. ‘Dare I guess at the reason for your sudden interest in émigrés, Gerald?’ ‘Lucilla,’ barked Hilary warningly. The only inconvenience I feel from my shattered noddle is an incapacity to drink. He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so.
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