Rosemary's first thought had been: "They know. Elza has told them!" The second was: "Elza has a plan. Peter said it was a mad one. A plan for Philip and Anna's escape." She wondered if they would tell her.
"I hope I am not late for lunch," she said, rather breathlessly, as she had been walking very fast. Then she added casually: "Where is Peter?"
"He is busy packing," Elza replied.
"Packing?" Rosemary exclaimed, puzzled. "He is not going away—already?"
"Yes," Elza said, "to-night."
"But he did not say anything yesterday," Rosemary insisted, "about going away again so soon. Or even this morning."
"I don't think he knew yesterday," Elza rejoined. "It seems he had a telephone message half an hour ago. He says he must go."
Anna now appeared to wake out of her trance. Rosemary was standing close to her just then; she took Rosemary's hand gently in hers and said:
"You see, darling, it is like this: one of Peter's cricketers has telephoned to him to say that they have such a lot of trouble about their rooms at Hódmezö. Roumanians are not exactly popular in Hungary," she went on with a wan little smile, "and I suppose that hotel-keepers don't care to put them up. So Peter has had to promise to go and put things right for his cricketers."
"He will come back, of course, after the cricket match," Elza concluded placidly. "But it is a great nuisance for him, packing and unpacking all the time."