“Miss Voile, this is Miss Woolly, who bears with me.”
Miss Woolly laughed, and Cicely stepped on to the running-board and put out her hand.
“It can’t be a very hard life,” she said. “You’re looking too well.”
“I suppose you dance, child?” said Mrs. Medallion.
“I do,” said Cicely. “I love it. I know the dances of to-day aren’t all they might be, but neither is anything else, for the matter of that. I imagine that convents are as conservative as ever, but outside them——”
“I doubt it,” sighed Mrs. Medallion. “Look at the gaols. I don’t believe in torture, but I always had a weakness for the discouragement of crime. Never mind. Come back to Pau now, and I’ll give you some tea. Toby!”
“Yes, Aunt Ira.”
“Take Miss Voile out of sight and give her her cigarette. I think she’s earned it. Then follow us back to Pau. By the way, d’you feel better now?”
“Much better, thank you, Aunt Ira,” said Captain Rage.
“What a fool you are,” said his aunt. “I don’t expect to be welcomed, but misprision of my understanding I cannot endure. But for your pretty advocate, your ghastly endeavours to dissemble would have cost you extremely dear.” Her nephew quailed. “Besides, aren’t you proud of her?”