dream of touching ordinary politics. It's a marvellous thing to be in the
movement, if we can only realise it. Don't you think so, Mrs. Moncreiff?"

Audrey made no response. The other two sat silent. Miss Ingate thought:

"What's the girl going to do next? Surely she could mumble something."

The car curved and stopped.

"Here we are," said Miss Ingate, delighted. "And thank you so much. I
suppose all we have to do is just to push the bell and the door opens. Now
Audrey, dear."

Audrey did not stir.

"_Mon Dieu!_" murmured Madame Piriac, "What has she, little one?"

Rosamund said stiffly and curtly:

"She is asleep.... It is very late. Four o'clock."

Excellent as was Audrey's excuse for her lapse, Rosamund was not at all
pleased. That slumber was one of Rosamund's rare defeats.



CHAPTER XII

WIDOWHOOD IN THE STUDIO