“Yes, sir.”
“And the carriage?”
“Yes, sir. It will be at the door in a quarter of an hour, sir.”
“That will do. You hear that?” I asked Elma.
She made a gesture of angry impatience. “I can’t understand you.”
“It means good-bye, Baroness. I have still some letters to finish and arrangements to complete, and have, as you hear, only fifteen minutes. I part without any anger;” and I held out my hand.
“I will save Gatrina without you,” she exclaimed, not taking my hand.
“I don’t think anyone can do that, but it’s very good of you to try,” I replied with a conventional smile.
This appeared to kindle all her rage again to white heat. She stared at me a moment, then raised her arms above her head and with a passionate ejaculation of disgust, swept out of the room.
Her complete mystification and indignant wrath gave me intense satisfaction, and with a chuckle of enjoyment I sat down again and finished my letters just in time to drive hurriedly to the depot and catch my train.