“Yes, going away. Don’t you know? How odd! She told me that Theodore had come in this afternoon, after having met the Van Troyens, and had said in his disagreeable way (though she didn’t call it that, but I think him very disagreeable), ‘Mother, our work here is done; we are going back to Bois-le-Duc.’ She couldn’t get anything more out of him. He went away and banged the door. So selfish.”
“Josine!” called the Dominé on ahead.
“Coming! coming, Roderigue. How odd, Ursula, that you didn’t know that!”
Ursula stood looking after her father’s vanished figure. “To-morrow I shall tell him,” she said.
CHAPTER XLIX
FACE TO FACE WITH HERSELF
She stood on the terrace, amid the gloom of the placid, moonless night. The great house gleamed dully white behind her, and the wealth of foliage that embowered it stretched in black masses beyond.
“It is the end,” she said, clutching at the flimsy folds about her throat. “What a pitiful little end it is!”