It came again, and not the voice of a spirit, but real, and close at hand.
“It’s some one in that taxi,” whispered Ladislaw. “Better not answer.”
“But it’s grandmother!” said Ethel, astounded.
She flew to the old lady like a stone from a catapult.
“Grandmother, what are you doing here?” she demanded, wild with delight and relief.
“Nothing!” replied the old lady serenely. “Present your friend to me.”
“I—” began Ethel.
Ladislaw was already there, hat in hand.[Pg 128]
“Mr. Metz, grandmother,” she said.
“Ah! Mr. Metz!” the old lady repeated, looking thoughtfully at him. Her calm old eyes seemed terrible to him. “Are you leaving?” she asked.