However, she was punctual to her appointment; and I found her awaiting me in the coffee-room, when I came in—a little late myself—after seeing the ladies off to the station.
“Well, they are gone,” I said. “And now for relaxation and refreshment following duty.”
She shot a quick glance at me; but relapsed immediately into the rather apathetic attitude with which she had accepted my reappearance. She looked a little pale and dark-eyed; but I was resolute to make no comment thereon, nor to imply in any way an understanding sympathy with her state. I expressed my contrition for my unpunctuality, and that was all.
“It doesn’t matter in the least,” she said. “I don’t think I am very hungry.”
“Nonsense,” I answered. “You must eat, after that—” I checked myself, on the brink of the undesired subject. “Besides,” I said, “we have this journey before us, and with only a problematic meal at the end of it. I don’t build implicitly on the resources of the place we are going to—unless it has altered considerably since my time.”
“Very well,” she said impassively: “I will try.”
“How have you amused yourself during my absence?” I asked.
“I went to the Muséon Arleten with M. Cabarus,” she answered in an indifferent voice: “we stayed there till it was time for him to go.”
“To go! What, has he actually taken his departure?”
“Yes—for les Baux. He went in a hired automobile.”