As Patricia and Elton walked towards the Park he explained that Lady Peggy's tea-tray had figured in many little comedies. Bishops, Cabinet Ministers, great generals and admirals had all descended the stairs in the way Patricia had.
"In fact," he added, "when the Duke was in the Cabinet, it was the youngest and brightest collection of Ministers in the history of the country. Every one of them was devoted to Peggy, and I think they would have made war or peace at her command."
When Patricia arrived at Galvin House, she was conscious of the world having changed since the morning. All her gloom had been dispelled, the drawn look had passed from her face, and she felt that a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE AIR RAID
"Miss Brent, please get up. There's an air raid."
Mechanically Patricia sat up in bed and listened. Outside a police-whistle was droning its raucous warning; within there was the sound of frightened whispers and the noise of the opening and shutting of doors. Suddenly there was a shriek, followed by a low murmur of several voices. The sound of the police-whistle continued, gradually dying away in the distance, and the noises within the house ceased.
Patricia strained her ears to catch the first sound of the defensive guns. She had no intention of getting up for a false alarm. For some minutes there was silence, then came a slight murmur, half sob, half sigh, as if London were breathing heavily in her sleep, another followed, then half a dozen in quick succession growing louder with every report. Suddenly came the scream of a "whiz-bang" and the thunder of a large gun. Soon the orchestra was in full swing.
Still Patricia listened. She was fascinated. Why did guns sound exactly as if large plank were being dropped? Why did the report seem as if something were bouncing? Suddenly a terrific report, a sound as if a giant plank had been dropped and had "bounced." A neighbouring gun had given tongue, another followed.