"I've been a
cad," she said, "because I hinted that you were in love with Mrs
Weston. My dear, it was simply perfect! I believe it to have been the
last straw, and if you don't forgive me you needn't. Wasn't it clever?
He simply couldn't stand that, for it came on the top of your being so
young."
"Well, really--" said Georgie.
"I know. And I must be a cad again. I'm going up to my bedroom, you may
come, too, if you like, because it commands a view of Church Road. I
shouldn't sleep a wink unless I knew that he had gone in with her.
It'll be precisely like Faust and Marguerite going into the house, and
you and I are Mephistopheles and Martha. Come quick!"
From the dark of the window they watched Mrs Weston's bath-chair being
pushed up the lit road.
"It's the Colonel pushing it," whispered Olga, squeezing him into a
corner of the window. "Look! There's Tommy Luton on the path. Now
they've stopped at her gate ... I can't bear the suspense.... Oh,
Georgie, they've gone in! And Atkinson will stop, and so will
Elizabeth, and you've promised to lend them Foljambe. Which house will
they live at, do you think? Aren't you happy?"
Chapter TWELVE
The miserable Lucia started a run of extreme bad luck about this time,
of which the adventure or misadventure of the Guru seemed to be the
prelude, or perhaps the news of her want of recognition of the August
moon, which Georgie had so carefully saluted, may have arrived at that
satellite by October.
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