"Don't keep the taxi, Arthur. I assure you Lady Dunstable will be very
glad to keep both me--and my bag. Or if she won't--Lord Dunstable will."
Meadows came nearer--bent down to study her tired face.
"There's some mystery, of course, Doris, in all this! Aren't you going
to tell me what it means?"
His wife's pale cheeks flushed.
"I would have told you--if you'd been the least bit glad to see me!
But--if you don't pay the taxi, Arthur, it will run up like anything!"
She pointed peremptorily to the ticking vehicle and the impatient
driver. Meadows went mechanically, paid the driver, shouldered the bag,
and carried it into the hall of the Lodge. He then perceived that two
grinning and evidently inquisitive footmen, waiting in the hall for
anything that might turn up for them to do, had been watching the whole
scene--the arrival of the taxi, and the meeting between the unknown lady
and himself, through a side window.
Burning to box someone's ears, Meadows loftily gave the bag to one of
them with instructions that it should be taken to his room, and then
turned to rejoin his wife.
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