"At last," he said in a voice of relief, heaving an enormous sigh.
He looked at her and smiled.
Instantly she smiled back. Any shreds of self-consciousness she may have had clinging to her in her earlier days had been finally scraped off when Judith, that amazing piece of loveliness, came out.
"Were you cold?" she asked, with the friendly interest of a boy.
"Naturally. When windows are open one is always cold."
"Oh!" said Ingeborg, who had never thought of that.
She perceived from his speech that he was a foreigner. From the turned-down collar and white tie beneath his opened scarf she also was made aware that he was a minister of religion. "How they pursue me," she thought. Even here, even in a railway carriage reserved for Dent's excursionists only, one of them had filtered through. She also saw that he was of a drab complexion, and that his hair, drab, too, and close-cropped and thick, seemed to be made of beaver.
"But that's what windows are for," she said, after reflecting on it.
"No."
The two large ladies let Shoolbred pause while they looked at each other.