'Do you see him?' she asked, her face crimsoning.

The perspiration broke out on Mrs. Baynes' forehead beneath the powder.

"Oh, yes! I don't remember when he was here last--indeed, we haven't

seen much of him lately. He's so busy with your cousin's house; I'm

told it'll be finished directly. We must organize a little dinner to

celebrate the event; do come and stay the night with us!"

"Thank you," said June. Again she thought: 'I'm only wasting my time.

This woman will tell me nothing.'

She got up to go. A change came over Mrs. Baynes. She rose too; her lips

twitched, she fidgeted her hands. Something was evidently very wrong,

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and she did not dare to ask this girl, who stood there, a slim, straight

little figure, with her decided face, her set jaw, and resentful

eyes. She was not accustomed to be afraid of asking question's--all

organization was based on the asking of questions!

But the issue was so grave that her nerve, normally strong, was fairly

shaken; only that morning her husband had said: "Old Mr. Forsyte must be

worth well over a hundred thousand pounds!"

And this girl stood there, holding out her hand--holding out her hand!

The chance might be slipping away--she couldn't tell--the chance of

keeping her in the family, and yet she dared not speak.

Her eyes followed June to the door.

It closed.

Then with an exclamation Mrs. Baynes ran forward, wobbling her bulky

frame from side to side, and opened it again.

Too late! She heard the front door click, and stood still, an expression

of real anger and mortification on her face.

June went along the Square with her bird-like quickness. She detested

that woman now whom in happier days she had been accustomed to think

so kind. Was she always to be put off thus, and forced to undergo this

torturing suspense?

She would go to Phil himself, and ask him what he meant. She had the

right to know. She hurried on down Sloane Street till she came to

Bosinney's number. Passing the swing-door at the bottom, she ran up the

stairs, her heart thumping painfully.

At the top of the third flight she paused for breath, and holding on to

the bannisters, stood listening. No sound came from above.

With a very white face she mounted the last flight. She saw the door,

with his name on the plate. And the resolution that had brought her so

far evaporated.

The full meaning of her conduct came to her. She felt hot all over;

the palms of her hands were moist beneath the thin silk covering of her

gloves.




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