As he alighted
and passed through the booking-hall into the station-yard a voice
hailed him. He looked up sharply. A carriage and pair of horses
was waiting, and inside a young woman with a very smart hat and a
profusion of yellow hair.
"Come on, General," she cried. "I've done a skip and driven down
to meet you. Such jokes when they miss me. The old lady will be
as sick as they make 'em. Can't we have a drive round for an hour,
eh?"
Her voice was high-pitched and penetrating. Listening to it Trent
unconsciously compared it with the voices of the women of that
other world into which he had wandered earlier in the afternoon.
He turned a frowning face towards her.
"You might have spared yourself the trouble," he said shortly. "I
didn't order a carriage to meet me and I don't want one. I am
going to walk home."
She tossed her head.
"What a beastly temper you're in!" she remarked. "I'm not
particular about driving. Do you want to walk alone?"
"Exactly!" he answered. "I do!"
She leaned back in the carriage with heightened colour.
"Well, there's one thing about me," she said acidly. "I never go
where I ain't wanted."
Trent shrugged his shoulders and turned to the coachman.
"Drive home, Gregg," he said. "I'm walking.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87