“Eustacie and I will wait for you in the drawing-room,” he said.
It seemed as though Sir Tristram would have demurred, but Miss Thane frustrated this by breaking into profuse expressions of gratitude. He made the best of it, and the instant the library door was closed on them, said: “Have you been talking like that all the time?”
Miss Thane sank into a chair in an exhausted attitude. “But without pause!” she said faintly. “My dear sir, I have been inspired! The mantle of my own cousin fell upon my shoulders, and I spoke like her, tittered like her, even thought like her! She is the silliest woman I know. It worked like a charm! He was itching to be rid of me!”
“I should imagine he might well!” said Sir Tristram. “The wonder is that he did not strangle you.”
She chuckled. “He is too well-bred. Did I sound really feather-headed? I tried to.”
“Yes,” he said. He looked at her with a hint of a smile. “You are an extremely accomplished woman, Miss Thane.”
“I have a natural talent for acting,” she replied modestly. “But your own efforts were by no means contemptible, I assure you.” She got up. “We have no time to waste if we are to find this panel. Do you take this side of the room and I will take that.”
“Oh—the panel!” said Sir Tristram. “Yes, of course.”
Chapter Seven
Having got rid of his cousin and of Miss Thane, the Beau turned to Eustacie, and murmured: “Could anything be better? Shall we go into the drawing-room?”