"Yes, please," Sophy managed to murmur. She sank down into the nearest chair.
The head porter came shortly. He had just returned from the station. Yes. Lady Wychcote had left that morning on the through train for Paris.
Sophy could not articulate for a moment. Then she said, her lips stiff and dry:
"Was she ... was she ... alone?"
The porter replied that Miladi had been alone when he last saw her, as she had insisted on being taken to the station an hour before the train left. But that the tickets were for herself and her maid. So that he supposed that the maid had joined her later. There happened to be no other guests leaving on the through train for Paris that morning, and as Miladi had insisted that he should not wait, he had returned to the hotel. Miladi was very positive.
"You are sure there was not a ... a little boy with her?" Sophy asked.
Yes—the porter was quite sure that there had been no little boy with Miladi.
Sophy's mind was working in terrible, clear flashes.
She turned to Rosa, who stood a little apart, rather scared, feeling that something puzzling and dreadful was in the air, but only understanding now and then a word of the English in which all were speaking.
"You said that Lady Wychcote took her maid with her this morning, didn't you?" Sophy asked.