Tea came in at this moment, and they talked of other matters till the man had left the room. Then:
"One thing more," said Lady Oxted, "and the last. I hardly like to say to you that I suspect nothing and nobody, because that sounds as if there was possibly something to suspect. There is nothing. But this is a curious circumstance, and it has interested me."
Geoffrey walked back to Cavendish Square, feeling vaguely sombre and depressed. A tepid drizzle of rain was falling, making the pavement slippery; the air was hot and thundery, suggestive of expectancy and unrest, and this accentuated his mood. He had no clew of any kind as to what these secret dealings could possibly mean, and nothing that his ingenuity could suggest was even a faintly satisfactory solution.
Every moment the sky seemed to be pressing more heavily on to the earth, and it was as if the very tightness of the air prevented the breaking of the storm. By the time he had reached Cavendish Square a faint, thick twilight showed overhead, the drizzle of rain had ceased, and only a few large drops fell sparingly. He let himself in with his latchkey, and found himself immediately face to face with Harry, who was just coming out. And at the sight of him he suddenly felt that his vague fear was going to be at once realized, for in his eyes sat a miserable despair.
"Harry! Harry! what is the matter?" he cried.
Harry did not look at him.
"Nothing," he said. "Where have you been?"
"Sitting with Lady Oxted."
"Then perhaps she will see me. She is better, I suppose. Tell me, Geoff," and he fidgeted with the door handle, "did you see Miss Aylwin?"
"No. Lady Oxted does not allow her to come to her room, for fear of her getting the influenza."