Alvina stood at a loss.
“You return to the funeral?” said Madame coldly.
He shook his head.
“When you are ready to go,” he said.
“At four o’clock,” said Madame, “when the funeral has come home. Then we shall be in time for the train.”
He nodded, smiled stupidly, opened the door, and went.
“This is just like him, to be so—so—” Madame could not express herself as she walked down to the kitchen.
“Miss Pinnegar, this is Madame,” said Alvina.
“How do you do?” said Miss Pinnegar, a little distant and condescending. Madame eyed her keenly.
“Where is the man? I don’t know his name,” said Miss Pinnegar.