‘The back drawing-room window! I’m sorry I did not see it was open.’
‘What makes you go to shut it?’ said he, hastily marching across the room, and closing it and the doors. ‘I shall be gone in a moment, and you may let in a hurricane if you like. Have you seen my cigar-case!’
‘It was on the ledge of your wardrobe.’
‘Some of your maids have been and hid it.’
‘I told Sarah never to put your things away. I think I could find it.’
‘No, don’t go, I have looked everywhere.’
As he never found things, even when before his eyes, this was not conclusive; and she undertook the search in spite of another careless ‘No, no, don’t,’ knowing it meant the contrary.
She could not find it in his dressing-room, and he looked annoyed, again accusing the maids. This made her feel injured, and though growing exhausted, as well she might, as she had not even begun breakfast, she said she would look in the sitting-room. He half remonstrated, without looking up from the paper, but she hoped to be gladdened by thanks, hunted in all his hiding-places in vain, and found she must give it up, after a consultation with Sarah, who resentfully denied all knowledge of it, and told her she looked ready to drop.
Dolefully coming into the hall, she saw Arthur’s black travelling-bag. Was it for more than the day? The evenings were bad enough—but a desolate night! And he had never told her!’
‘I suppose you have not found it?’