“Where’s Mrs. Harter?”
“She isn’t here yet, is she?” said Mrs. Kendal, looking round with an inquiring expression. And presently she added, as though struck by an afterthought, “Mrs. Harter is late, isn’t she?”
“Martyn went for her on his motor bike.”
“They’ll probably be brought in on two stretchers directly,” Sallie said cheerfully. “Meanwhile, couldn’t we get on without them?”
Of course they could, and did. Bill Patch stuck to his post and never took his eyes off his company, until the cue was spoken for Martyn’s first entrance. Then there was a pause and Mrs. Fazackerly said:
“Oh dear, haven’t they come yet?”
Bill shook his head. Evidently, although he hadn’t turned round, he would have known it if they had come.
Mary, who was prompting, began to read her son’s part, but before she had spoken two sentences he came in.
He was by himself.
It was one of the Kendals, needless to say, although I cannot remember which one, who asked, “Hasn’t Mrs. Harter come?”