"I have been waiting for you, Mr. Draconmeyer," she remarked, smiling.
Draconmeyer remembered suddenly the packet of notes which he had been to fetch from the bank. He tried to speak but only faltered. Selingman had removed his hat but he, too, seemed incapable of coherent speech. She looked at them both, astonished.
"Whatever is the matter with you both?" she exclaimed. "Who is coming with me to the Club? I decided to come this way round to see if I could change my luck. That underground passage depresses me."
Draconmeyer moved up a couple of steps. He was quite himself now, grave but solicitous.
"Lady Hunterleys," he said, "I am sorry, but there has been a little accident. I am afraid that your husband has been hurt. If you will come back to your room for a minute I will tell you about it."
All the colour died slowly from her face. She swayed a little, but when Draconmeyer would have supported her she pushed him away.
"An accident?" she muttered. "I must go and see for myself."
She turned and re-entered the hotel swiftly. Draconmeyer caught her up in the hall.
"Lady Hunterleys," he begged earnestly, "please take my advice. I am your friend, you know. I want you to go straight to your room. I will come with you. I will explain to you then—"
"I am going to Henry," she interrupted, without even a glance towards him. "I am going to my husband at once. I must see what has happened."