Now that he was not coming she had lost all interest. Her face was listless as she crossed the landing to go downstairs.
As she did so, the door of Chris' bedroom opened, and he called to her:
"I want you, Marie Celeste."
Marie hesitated.
"It's nearly dinner-time; what do you want?"
"I want to speak to you."
One of the servants was coming upstairs, and more for appearance sake than anything Marie obeyed.
"Yes." She stood in the doorway waiting.
Chris had made no attempt to change for dinner, though he had been in some time. He stretched a hand past her as she stood there and 204 shut the door. Then he said abruptly:
"I'm going away to-morrow, Marie. I'm sick of London." He did not look at her as he spoke, but he heard the quick breath she drew, and knew it was one of relief.