“No key! ... Lost!”
Then she looked awkwardly at Audrey.
“I’ve been told they only want to open one trunk when there’s a lot. Let him choose another one,” she murmured archly.
But the official merely walked away, to deal with the trunks of somebody else close by.
Audrey was cross.
“Miss Ingate,” she said formally, “you had the key when we started, because you showed it to me. You can’t possibly have lost it.”
“No,” answered Winnie calmly and knowingly. “I haven’t lost it. But I’m not going to have the things in my trunk thrown about for all these foreigners to see. It’s simply disgraceful. They ought to have women officials and private rooms at these places. And they would have, if women had the vote. Let him open one of your trunks. All your things are new.”
The porteur had meanwhile been discharging French into Audrey’s other ear.
“Of course you must open it, Winnie,” said she. “Don’t be so absurd!” There was a persuasive lightness in her voice, but there was also command. For a moment she was the perfect widow.
“I’d rather not.”