The servants had left the room. Neither Charvill nor his heir know anything of your presence in England. ToC Mrs. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. And Mother trusted him. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal.
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