But Constance had anticipated that he would have been just a little more knocked down, bowled over, staggered, stunned, flabbergasted. In a swift gleam of insight she saw that she had been in danger of forgetting her role of experienced, capable married woman.
“I shall have to set about getting a fresh one,” she said hastily, with an admirable assumption of light and easy casualness.
Mr. Povey seemed to think that Hollins would suit Maggie pretty well. He made no remark to the betrothed when she answered the final bell of the night.
He opened his ledgers, whistling.
“I think I shall go up, dear,” said Constance. “I’ve a lot of things to put away.”
“Do,” said he. “Call out when you’ve done.”
II
“Sam!” she cried from the top of the crooked stairs.
No answer. The door at the foot was closed.
“Sam!”