She drew back, biting a red lip and trying hard not to smile.
"He'll soon be back," I went on, "and then you're going to have your show. Kindly ascend the throne. All queens do sooner or later."
"Really, I think he's had enough," she said, settling herself in the high-backed chair.
After a little argument:
"All you've got to remember," I said, "is that you're awfully sorry you're so late, and that the truth is you forgot all about the sitting, and that, by the way, when you got here, you met a man going out, and that you don't know who he was, but you suppose it was alright. Only you thought Mr. Larel ought to know."
"I've never met anyone like you before."
"My dear, you never will. I am unique. And remember you've taken rather a fancy—— Here he is. Yes, queens always have their hands kissed. All real queens..."
I seized my hat, stick, and gloves, and faded behind the curtains. She was really wonderful. "Mr. Larel, will you ever forgive me? I'm most awfully sorry. D'you know I quite forgot. I suppose you'd given me up? And now it's too late. Oh, yes. I only came to apologize. I can't think—"
George couldn't get a word in edgeways. I watched him through the crack of the curtains. His face was a study. Of course, he was mentally cursing himself for sending the wire so precipitately, and wondering how the deuce he could explain its arrival without revealing the true state of affairs. Apparently in the end he decided for the moment, at any rate, to say nothing about it, for, as soon as she let him speak, he assured her it didn't matter at all, and passed, somewhat uneasily, direct to the weather.
"By the way," said Margery suddenly, "there was a man here when I came. I suppose it was all right."