Madame Joyselle had come in, followed by Théo. Joyselle, standing in the shadow, did not answer, but Brigit laughed gaily, and her gaiety was unfeigned, for she had assured herself, by watching him under torture, of the strength of Joyselle's love for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The next morning at half-past six Madame Joyselle, creeping quietly downstairs, was, to her amazement, overtaken by Brigit.
"I have not slept," the girl explained, "and am going for a walk. I have promised to take Tommy to see 'Peter Pan' this afternoon and must feel better when I do."
"I am sorry you did not sleep. I am going marketing—and to Mass."
They opened the door and went out into the fresh morning air. Golden Square was asleep as yet, and the well-kept grass in the garden looked pleasantly fresh behind the brown railings.
"Come with me; it will do you good," said the older woman suddenly, "and it will amuse you to see France in this old dark London of ours."
She carried a large basket, and looked, in her trim dark dress and bonnet, so exactly what she was that it occurred to Brigit, by force of contrast, how remarkably few people nowadays do look what they are.
"I will come with pleasure," she said gently, as they turned to the left. "Where do you go first?"