Her fortnight in Paris had grown into three fat weeks of merry-making. Parties, dances and plays had all contributed to the delicious orgy, but by far the handsomest contribution had been made by fashion parades. Indeed, with Madge Willoughby to pace her upon the track of models, Blanche had broken all her records of extravagance. When she rolled out of the gay capital in her luxurious car bound for Boulogne she had expended upon clothes alone very nearly six thousand pounds.
The prospect of returning to work was none too engaging. But while she loathed the thought of working ten hours a day, the reflection that Mrs. Willoughby had been left standing went far to cure her melancholy. Indeed, by the time she had crossed the Channel and was sliding through Kent she had come to the conclusion that Titus was right and that ‘not to see the boom out would be the act of a fool.’
Then a lorry came out of a by-road at thirty-five and knocked her limousine into a quickset hedge. . . .
By the time assistance arrived Blanche, who had recovered her wits, was able not only to direct her extrication, but to resist all endeavours to convey her to hospital.
“I should like to sit down somewhere,” she said faintly. “Perhaps there’s a house somewhere near where they’d give me some tea or something, and let me sit down. I’m not a bit hurt. What about the chauffeur?”
The chauffeur, who should have been killed, was safe and sound and more than occupied. It is good to think that he was kneeling upon the stomach of the driver of the motor-lorry, at once reciting the latter’s lineage and failings and compressing his windpipe until the delinquent’s eyeballs started from his head.
Twenty-five yards away an imposing gateway argued the presence of a mansion, so two very civil strangers offered Mrs. Cheviot their arms and assisted her up the drive.
Then a bell was rung, and when a servant arrived shelter was asked.
The man went running for his master, and two minutes later Blanche was seated in a deep chair before a fire, sipping a brandy-and-soda and absently listening to her host’s explosive indignation while her two assistants were relating the manner of her mishap.
The spirit worked wonders.