KAY never remembered much of that journey East. One day she was leaving Tom behind forever, and some time after that, ages and ages, they were at home again. There were all the familiar incidents of such returns; the car meeting them in town and taking them out to the country. Hawkins touching his cap:
"Glad to see you back, sir."
"Very glad to be back, Hawkins."
Hawkins's hair newly cut, since Mrs. Dowling, having to look mostly at the back of his neck, was particular about this; Hawkins tucking in the rug.
"Directly home, sir?"
"Yes."
Moving along, the streets smooth, the engine gayly purring. Leaning back against soft upholstery, dropping Herbert at his apartment, Nora stiff and silent out in front beside Hawkins and discouraging conversation. It was not good form to have conversation on in the front seat. The country and the Club, set in its green links; still green, not burnt and parched like the plains. Big estates; gates of iron and smooth drives, and beyond them the houses, luxurious houses surrounded by trees and flowers. Turning in at their own gate, with its tidy lodge, and James at the door and Rutherford in the doorway, very elegant, very English.
"Welcome home, sir. Welcome home, madam."
Inside the house now. The mingled odors of soap, furniture polish and fresh flowers. The parlor maid in the background, a study in black and white.
"Well, Hannah? Is everything all right?"
"Very nice, madam. Thank you."
Nora nervously counting the bags once more, and James and Hawkins carrying them up.
"Will you have tea now, madam, or later?"
