"She told me all about her," Mrs. Vincent answered, "and how you went to her rooms and put the flowers into the pots. It made me hope—that, and what my husband told me—that some day you would come and see us here."
"Thank you," he said, simply.
"Who is Miss Hunstan?" asked Hannah.
Tom answered, beamingly, "Why, Louise Hunstan, the actress, you know!"
"I didn't know, Mr. Carringford. I don't hold with theatres or any such places, and I was surprised at Mr. Vincent taking Margaret to one. I can't see that people are any the better—" She stopped, for there were footsteps on the pathway outside, and a moment later Mr. Garratt walked in with an air of being quite at home.
"How do you do, everybody?" he said. He wore his best clothes and the spats over his shoes. The handkerchief in his breast-pocket was scented more than usual. He took it out and shook it and put it back again, while a whiff of white rose floated over the table. His hair was tightly curled at the tips; he ran his fingers through it as he took off his bowler hat.
"We didn't expect you, Mr. Garratt," Hannah said with sudden graciousness, and made room for him beside her.
"Didn't know you had company," he answered, jauntily. "I hope I don't intrude? Mrs. Vincent, how do you do? Miss Margaret, your humble servant," and reluctantly he sat down beside Hannah.
"This is Mr. Carringford, a friend of my husband's," Mrs. Vincent told her visitor.