"Nothing serious; I am not going, that is all—they have changed my date. The matter has been uncertain all day, or I would have let you know earlier. It is lucky I was in time to prevent your starting."
She was dumb with disappointment.
"It is a nuisance about your luggage," he went on; "we must telegraph about it. Don't look so down in the mouth—we shall have our trip next week instead."
"What am I to say to Jean—he will think it so strange? I have said good-bye to him."
"Oh, you can find an excuse—you 'missed your train.' Come out for half an hour, and we can talk." His glance fell on the workroom. "Is that fastened up?"
"I don't know. Do you want to see what he has done?"
"I may as well." He had never had an opportunity before—Bourjac had always been in there.
"No, it isn't locked," she said; "come on then! Wait till I have shut it after us before you strike a match—Margot might see the light."
A rat darted across their feet as they lit the lamp, and he dropped the matchbox. "Ugh!"
"The beastly things!" she shivered, "Make haste!"