Thomas Cook & Son could conceive. There was four pounds and ninepence to
pay for excess luggage at Charing Cross. Half a year earlier four pounds
would have bought all the luggage she could have got together. She very
nearly said to the clerk at the window: "Don't you mean shillings?" But in
spite of nervousness, blushings, and all manner of sensitive reactions to
new experiences, her natural sang-froid and instinctive knowledge of the
world saved her from such a terrible lapse, and she put down a bank-note
without the slightest hint that she was wondering whether it would not be
more advantageous to throw the luggage away.

The boat was crowded, and the sea and wind full of menace. Fighting their
way along the deck after laden porters, Audrey and Miss Ingate
simultaneously espied the private cabin list hung in a conspicuous spot.
They perused it as eagerly as if it had been the account of a _cause
célèbre._ Among the list were two English lords, an Honourable Mrs., a
baroness with a Hungarian name, several Teutonic names, and Mrs. Moncreiff.

Audrey blushed deeply at the sign of Mrs. Moncreiff, for she was Mrs.
Moncreiff. Behind the veil, and with the touch of white in her toque, she
might have been any age up to twenty-eight or so. It would have been
impossible to say that she was a young girl, that she was not versed in the
world, that she had not the whole catechism of men at her finger-ends. All
who glanced at her glanced again--with sympathy and curiosity; and the
second glance pricked Audrey's conscience, making her feel like a thief.
But her moods were capricious. At one moment she was a thief, a clumsy
fraud, an ignorant ninny, and a suitable prey for the secret police; and at
the next she was very clever, self-confident, equal to the situation, and
enjoying the situation more than she had ever enjoyed anything, and
determined to prolong the situation indefinitely.