Another moment and he had left the shop, leaving Margot to draw out her purse and pay for her purchases in a tingling of pique and disappointment.
“That gentleman will be staying up at the Nag’s Head with yourself,” vouchsafed the spotted postmaster affably. “A fine gentleman—a ferry fine gentleman! They say he will be a ferry great man up in London. I suppose you will be hearing of his name?”
Margot’s response was somewhat depressed in tone.
“Yes. She had heard of Mr Elgood... She would take four, not five, postcards of the Nag’s Head. No; there was nothing else she was needing. The two penny packets of notepaper were certainly very cheap, the coloured tints and scalloped borders quite wonderful to behold; but she did not require any to-day, thank you. Perhaps another time. Good morning!”
Outside in the road Ronald was pacing up and down, twirling his stick, and looking bright and animated. He came hurrying back to meet Margot, hardly waiting to reach her side before breaking into speech.
“Well—well! You saw him? Did you notice the shape of his head? You can see it all in his face—the force and the insight, the imagination. The face of a scholar, and the body of a sportsman, A magnificent combination! Did you notice his walk?”
“Oh, I noticed him well enough. I noticed all there was to see. I have no complaints to make about his appearance.”
“What have you to complain of then? What has gone wrong?”
“He never noticed me!”
Ron laughed; a loud boyish laugh of amusement!