Another wagonette drove up and Mrs. Turle with Nancy alighted.
The girl’s face flooded when she saw Edred—in dark clothes—and saw the various leather bags lying about on the platform. They were being hurriedly labeled by the porter.
“Edred’s going away—for good.” Pamela turned her veiled cheek to the red lips.
“To sea?”
Nancy’s face grew piteous.
“No. To the city.”
“Then he will come down sometimes.”
“Perhaps—but it is doubtful. He has found Folly Corner dull. London is so full of attractions for a man.”
“Going away!” Aunt Sophy’s clear eyes seemed to pierce behind the lying mask of her burning face. “Isn’t it very sudden, dear? You look quite feverish, Pamela. A touch of headache?”
“My head never aches,” she said, almost rudely.