It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. "Thames Darrell only waits my mandate to follow him. In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. I know my son's voice too well. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. Spurling, as if struck by a sudden idea. She advanced, stabbing at him. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. “Really?” “Would not let it go. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind.
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