But she did not move. She let the silence of the room close round her. Presently, after many hours it seemed, the door of her father’s room opened and shut, footsteps sounded in the hall, and Ordith entered.
“Alone?” he said.
It was strange that she felt so calm, so decided, so completely mistress of herself. A twist of annoyance because he asked so unnecessary a question—that was all.
“Are you ready for tea?” she asked.
“Indeed I am.”
“So you lay aside the burdens of state. Is father coming?”
“I expect he is.”
“I don’t,” she said, under her breath. Then, aloud: “I’ll go and ask him. You might ring.”
She looked into her father’s room. He was sitting by his desk, a spiral of blue smoke rising from the ash-tray at his side.
“Tea, father?”