The two maids were standing there waiting, and they stared at me as I passed and put on my hat.
"Please, sir, are you ready for breakfast? It's gone half-past ten."
"No," I said shortly. "I am going out first."
"Will Mrs. Lonsdale be coming down, sir?"
I stopped short.
"No, Mrs. Lonsdale has gone out already," I answered, and went on through the door.
I didn't care what they thought. When one is in great pain, physical or mental, nothing seems to matter except that pain.
I walked fast to the station, about a mile distant, and made enquiries as discreetly as I could.
"No," was the unanimous answer. Mrs. Lonsdale had certainly not left there by any train that morning, nor been there at all, nor hired a fly from there. They were all quite sure of that.
She was well known at the station, so it seemed improbable she could have been there unobserved.