Again Esther noticed those stumpy, abbreviated fingers, so oddly at variance with the rest of their owner.
"Bien," said Lady Clifford, flashing a charming smile upon her. "Let us have our _déjeuner."
She led the way downstairs.
CHAPTER IX
At the gare next morning, Miss Clifford, having selected a likely train, leaned forward in her brother's car and eagerly scanned each arrival as he issued from the exit. What if Roger did not arrive after all? These trains were so booked up at this season, he might not have been able to secure a wagon-lit. Still, he usually managed things….
"Roger! Roger!" she shouted suddenly, so that at least half a dozen travellers turned in her direction.
The young Englishman in the Harris tweed coat wheeled at the sound of her voice, and reached the car in a dozen quick strides. He was nearing thirty, tall, but less tall than Sir Charles, with features similar but not so pronounced, and eyes intensely blue. He had his father's humorous mouth modified and softened, and to the old man's look of stubborn strength he added something which suggested more imagination and sensitiveness. He appeared in excellent condition, wiry and vigorous, his skin tanned from five days of sea and wind.
"Roger, darling!"
"Dido, my dear old girl!"
His bear-like embrace brought comfort to her heart. She held him off at last and gazed on him with deep affection.