Extraordinary, that he hadn’t thought of it before.
XIV
§
Speaking of this time later on, Mrs. Luke was accustomed to say, ‘It was a mauvais quart d’heure,’ and to smile; but in her heart, when she thought of it, there was no smile.
She never forgot that coming down to breakfast on the morning of Sally’s flight, so unconscious of anything having happened, pleased that it was a fine day for her party, pleased with the pretty frock she had had sent from Harrods for the child to wear, excited at the prospect of presenting her to a dazzled South Winch, confident, somehow, with that curiously cloudless confidence that seems to lay hold of those about to be smitten by fate, that her beautiful daughter-in-law would behave perfectly, and the whole thing be a great success. Fate was about to smite her; and with more than the disappearance of a daughter-in-law, for that disappearance was but the first step to having to give up, renounce entirely and for always, her son.
Jocelyn came down to breakfast in a good humour too. He had slept like a log, after his series of interrupted nights.
‘Sally’s late,’ he said presently.
‘She is, isn’t she,’ said his mother. ‘You won’t call her Sally this afternoon, will you, dearest,’ she added, giving him his coffee.
‘Sorry, Mother. No. I’ll remember.’
And soon after that they made their discovery.