with the entry of Gustave, who stood just inside the door smiling inanely.
"Call a taxi for Colonel Bowen, please, Gustave," she said coolly.
Gustave looked surprised, the group looked disappointed, Bowen looked at Patricia with a puzzled expression.
"I'm sorry you're in a hurry," said Patricia, holding out her hand to Bowen. "I'm busy also."
"But
" began Bowen."Oh! don't trouble." Patricia advanced, and he had perforce to retreat towards the door. "See you again sometime. Good-bye," and Bowen found himself in the hall.
"Damn!" he muttered.
"Sir?" interrogated Gustave anxiously.
As Bowen was replying to Gustave in coin, Mrs. Craske-Morton appeared at the head of the stairs on her way down to the lounge after her tactful absence. For a moment she hesitated in obvious surprise, then, with the air of a would-be traveller who hears the guard's whistle, she threw dignity aside and made for Bowen.
"Colonel Bowen?" she interrogated anxiously.
Bowen turned and bowed.
"I am Mrs. Craske-Morton. Miss Brent did not tell me that you were making so short a call, or I would
" Mrs. Craske-Morton's pause implied that nothing would have prevented her from hurrying down.