determined to exercise, she could see him again before she left England on this deadly and necessary trip.
All that was honest enough; it was all there, but much more was there which she refused to acknowledge. It was the pith of the whole which she disowned—namely, her overwhelming desire to see him. Intolerable as was the thought that he might imagine she had wished to bring an end to their intimacy, it was more intolerable that she should be unable to see him just once again and tell him that it was not so. She had decided that he should not come to Ashdown while she was there, since Edgar was not with her nor Maud with him. That had been a hateful necessity, but necessary. More imperative now was the necessity of seeing him. But how? How?
There were many possible ways, all faced by some grand impossibility. Mouse, for instance, would be charmed if he telegraphed Maud's improvement, and suggested he should come here for a night or two. But grand impossibility faced that; if she had been right—and she felt sure she had been—in prohibiting his visit at all, she would be terribly wrong in getting him to come now. Things got into the papers; two lines to say that Mr. Lindsay had joined the Duchess of Wiltshire's party at Ashdown was a sufficient match for the powder-magazine of Edgar's mind. That clearly would not do. Slight though the risk was, it was still a risk, and Lucia, that hunted soul, wanted no risks.
Or again, she might go back to town on Thursday, stay at an hotel, and get him to dine with her. At the Carlton, for instance, under the blare of the band, she could tell him of the danger. She could also see him again, which was a more instant need. Yet that would not do; a chance paragraph might again wreck all. It was possible that Edgar might take up a paper which recorded that she had dined at the Carlton one night when she was supposed to be staying at Ashdown. It might even say, in case Charlie was recognized, who dined with her. Explanation, of course, would be simple: she had shopping to do in town, and since the house in Prince's Gate was shut up, she dined and slept at the Carlton. Certainly Charlie had dined with her: why not? Maud would have, but was still laid up. She had asked them both, but Maud had not come. What did anybody mean?
Then in a flash Lucia saw that which had been a subject of suspicion, though meaningless, to her husband, a few days
