“Eh bien! Au revoir!“ said she shortly, with a peculiar challenging half-smile, which seemed to be saying, “Are you going to be worthy of my education? Let us hope so.”
And Miss Nickall, with her grey hair growing fluffier under a somewhat rakish hat, said with a smile of sheer intense watchful benevolence:
“Well, good-bye!”
While Nick was ecstatically thanking Mr. Gilman for his hospitality, Tommy called Audrey aside. Madame Piriac’s car had vanished.
“Have you heard about the rehearsal this morning?” she asked, in a confidential tone, anxious and yet quizzical.
“No! What about it?” Audrey demanded. Various apprehensions were competing for attention in her brain. The episode of Mr. Cowl had agitated her considerably. And now she was standing right against the column bearing Musa’s name in those large letters, and other columns up and down the gay, busy street echoed clear the name. And how unreal it was!... Tickets being given away in half-dozens!... She ought to have been profoundly disturbed by such a revelation, and she was. But here was the drive with Mr. Gilman insisting on a monopoly of all her faculties. And on the top of everything—Tommy with her strange gaze and tone! Tommy carefully hesitated before replying.
“He lost his temper and left it in the middle—orchestra and conductor and Xavier and all! And he swore he wouldn’t play to-night.”
“Nonsense!”
“Yes, he did.”
“Who told you?”