He was into the passage in time to see her slip into another chamber at the end. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. ‘I suppose you think I can’t manage it myself,’ had complained Captain Roding sarcastically. She seemed honestly glad to see him. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. The audience clapped more heartily. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. There is a place—This isn’t the place. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the great shrouded shapes of the furniture.
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