And in the act of stooping to give Sally a parting kiss she heard her name being called, loud and cheerily, downstairs in the hall.
She started to her feet.
‘Margery! Margery!’ called the voice, with the cheerful insistence of one who, being betrothed, has the right to be cheerful and insistent in his fiancée’s hall.
Edgar. Come hours before his time.
§
‘Oh, hush, hush——’ besought Mrs. Luke, hurrying down to him.
‘Hush, eh?’
‘Jocelyn——’
She glanced fearfully along the passage to the backdoor.
‘He’s arrived,’ said Mr. Thorpe, not hushing at all. ‘Know that. Saw his—well, you can hardly call it a car, can you—his contraption, outside the gate.’