Lady Harman reflected. She seemed to hesitate on the verge of some answer and not to say it.
“You see,” she said, “it may have been different with you.... When one has a lot of nurses, and not very much authority.”
She coloured deeply and broke back from the impending revelations.
“No,” she said, “I would like some work of my own.”
§3
At this point their conversation was interrupted by the lady’s chauffeur in a manner that struck Mr. Brumley as extraordinary, but which the tall lady evidently regarded as the most natural thing in the world.
Mr. Clarence appeared walking across the lawn towards them, surveying the charms of as obviously a charming garden as one could have, with the disdain and hostility natural to a chauffeur. He did not so much touch his cap as indicate that it was within reach, and that he could if he pleased touch it. “It’s time you were going, my lady,” he said. “Sir Isaac will be coming back by the five-twelve, and there’ll be a nice to-do if you ain’t at home and me at the station and everything in order again.”
Manifestly an abnormal expedition.
“Must we start at once, Clarence?” asked the lady consulting a bracelet watch. “You surely won’t take two hours——”
“I can give you fifteen minutes more, my lady,” said Clarence, “provided I may let her out and take my corners just exactly in my own way.”