The lady whom Mr. Willoughby had addressed as Mabel--erroneously,
for her name was Ernestine--was standing beside him with a slip of
paper.
"Six and twopence," said Ernestine.
For a moment this appalling statement drew the unhappy man's mind
from the main issue.
"Six and twopence for a cup of chocolate and a few cakes?" he
cried, aghast. "It's robbery!"
"Six and twopence, please!" said the queen of the bandits with
undisturbed calm. She had been through this sort of thing before.
Ye Cosy Nooke did not get many customers; but it made the most of
those it did get.
"Here!" Geoffrey produced a half-sovereign. "I haven't time to
argue!"
The distressed brigand showed no gratification. She had the air of
one who is aloof from worldly things. All she wanted was rest and
leisure--leisure to meditate upon the body upstairs. All flesh is
as grass. We are here today and gone tomorrow. But there, beyond
the grave, is peace.
"Your change?" she said.
"Damn the change!"
"You are forgetting your hat."
"Damn my hat!"
Geoffrey dashed from the room. He heaved his body through the door.
He lumbered down the stairs.
Out in Bond Street the traffic moved up and the traffic moved down.
Strollers strolled upon the sidewalks.
But Maud had gone.