The little girl advanced with a small beaded bag. “The fee is payable in advance, if you please.”
Elsie fumbled in her purse, and pulled out two ten-shilling notes.
“Half a guinea each, if you please, ladies.”
“Irene, have you got two sixpences?” Elsie whispered, agitated.
Irene, by far the more collected of the two, produced a shilling, and the little girl with the bag went away.
“Will you two ladies be seated? One on either side of the table, please—not next to one another.”
Elsie made a despairing clutch at Irene’s hand again, but her friend shook her head, and firmly took her place on the other side of Madame Clara.
Elsie sank into the remaining chair, and felt that she was trembling violently. Her nervousness was partly pleasurable excitement, and partly involuntary reaction to the atmosphere diffused by the dim, shaded room and the autocratic solemnity of Madame Clara.
A sweet, rather sickly smell was discernible.
The silence affected Elsie so that she wanted to scream.