Chapter Sixteen.
Moreno had declared to Violet Hargrave that he proposed to go to bed early, and wait till to-morrow for the news.
When he spoke that had been his original intention. But, as the evening drew on, he began to feel a certain restlessness stirring in him. Certain things were about to happen, or, as he hoped, to be frustrated. He could hardly compose himself to sleep under the unusual circumstances. He would go out, and form one of the undistinguished crowd that clustered round the Palace gates. If anything dramatic happened, he could not fail to be aware of it. The news would spread like wildfire.
On his arrival, he caught sight of a woman closely veiled standing close beside him. He recognised her at once. It was evident that Mrs Hargrave could no more endure to stay indoors than he could.
He moved up a few paces and spoke to her in English, practically their native tongue.
“The same sudden impulse seized both of us,” he whispered. “Well, it is a very orderly crowd. I don’t think we shall be pushed or knocked about. We shall enjoy the sight of the grandees arriving. By the way, it is a pity we were not sent an invitation, then we could have seen it from the inside.”
Violet Hargrave whispered back. “I simply couldn’t stay indoors. My nerves seem on edge to-night.”
“Mine are a bit out of time, too,” answered Moreno in a low voice.
And, while they were waiting, Moreno indulged in several philosophical reflections.