’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. When he reached the happy ending, he waited. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. Ennison,” he said, “it is for you to cut in at Lady Angela’s table. A neat tale, giving little away. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much.
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