“Well—I don’t know—it depends.” She paused, tapping some dark blue teeth reflectively with her finger-nail whilst apparently counting the number of tucks in my skirt. She then closely inspected the gathers round my waist, and my belt-buckle.
“What does it depend upon?” I asked with deadly calm.
“Aoah! a lot of things.” She threw her head sideways revealing a generous splendour of double chin, and shouted over her shoulder in a tremendous voice. “Fanny! Come yerea minit.”
Fanny arriving was revealed as the tall and Junoesque girl with the swishing petticoat and the Wellington nose.
“This lady wants a room. What do you think, Fan?”
Fanny gazed at me in a queenly way over her military nose; but when she proceeded to count the tucks in my skirt and examine my belt-buckle I felt fury rising in me like a tidal wave.
“Madam!” I said, freezing the landlady with my eyes. “Will you be good enough to answer my question definitely? Can I or can I not engage a room in this hotel—and have my meals served to me there?”
“Aoah! meals served in bedroom! I never heard of such a thing.”
I turned away hot with wrath and met the eyes of Colonel Blow and Maurice Stair who had just come round the corner of the hotel and entered the verandah. They looked amazed at finding me there, so I explained hastily and haughtily to the former whilst Mr Stair and the doctor listened frankly, and the eyes of Mrs Baynes and “Fanny” seared the back of my frock and hat. Afterwards Colonel Blow said quietly and emphatically:
“Of course you have a room for this lady, Mrs Baynes—the best in the house. You can put me anywhere you like.” He added deliberately, “It would be a good thing to take Miss Saurin to her room at once and give her some breakfast.” There was no mistaking the “I-am-the-Commandant-and-mean-to-be-obeyed” tone of his voice.