If only she had telegraphed to Barbara from Folkestone!
"Here's two shillings. Ada, have you got a sixpence, by any chance?"
"There's sixpence in the kitchen, 'm," said Ada, and fetched it.
"There!" said Barbara. "Pay him then, please, Ada. Now, Alex, come upstairs and sit down. You look dreadfully ill and worn-out, my dear."
Alex lifted the suit-case again.
"Oh, Ada will see to that. Your room is all ready, Alex. It's very small, but then the house is a perfect doll's house, as you see. This is my tiny drawing-room."
"It's very pretty," said Alex, sinking into a chair.
"It's not bad—the things are nice enough. Ralph had some exquisite things—but, of course, the house is too hateful, and I hate living all the way out here. No one ever comes near me. Cedric's wife can't get her chauffeur to bring her—he pretends he doesn't know where it is. The only person who ever comes is Pamela."
"I thought she was to live with you?"
"Pam! Oh, she wouldn't bury herself out here, for long. Pam's very much in request, my dear. She's been paying visits all over the place, and can go on indefinitely, I believe. She makes her headquarters with Cedric and Violet in Clevedon Square, you know, but of course she'll marry. Pam's all right."