"To the City!"
The astonishment of the lady's voice was justified; she came quickly along the passage as if to learn what might be the significance of the mystery which she felt was in the air. But her daughter did not wait for her approach; she was through the door, had shut it with a bang, before her mother had realised what it was she meant to do.
Miss Joyce did not go to the City; she went instead to No. 90, Russell Square. There she inquired for Miss Patterson. She was told the lady was at breakfast.
"Tell her--tell her that I'm Miss Joyce, and that I must see her--at once."
She was in the hall, and looked so strange as she leaned against the wall, with her white face and frightened eyes, that the maid looked at her as if she could not make her out at all.
"Miss Joyce, did you say the name was?"
"Yes--Joyce--Mabel Joyce; tell Miss Patterson that Miss Joyce must see her at once."
The maid went into a room upon the right--the dining-room--presently reappeared, with Miss Patterson behind her. Gladys came out into the hall.
"Miss Joyce! You wish to see me? On what business?"
"Somewhere--somewhere where we'll be private."