managed to work her way round the cabin-deck to No. 12. It was empty, save
for hand-luggage! The two girls searched, as well as they could, the whole
crowded ship for Lord Southminster, and found him not. Lady Southminster
neither fainted nor wept. She merely said:

"Oh! All right! If that's it....!"

Hand-luggage was being collected. But Lady Southminster would not collect
hers, nor allow it to be collected. She agreed with Miss Ingate and Audrey
that her husband must ultimately reappear either on the quay or in the
train. While they were all standing huddled together in the throng waiting
for the gangway to put ashore, she said in a low casual tone, ˆ propos of
nothing:

"I only married him the day before yesterday. I don't know whether you
know, but I used to make cigarettes in Constantinopoulos's window in
Piccadilly. I don't see why I should be ashamed of it, d'you?"

"Certainly not," said Miss Ingate. "But it _is_ rather romantic, isn't it,
Audrey?"

Despite the terrific interest of the adventure of the cigarette girl,
disappointment began immediately after landing. This France, of which
Audrey had heard so much and dreamed so much, was a very ramshackle and
untidy and one-horse affair. The custom-house was rather like a battlefield
without any rules of warfare; the scene in the refreshment-room was rather
like a sack after a battle; the station was a desert with odd files of
people here and there; the platforms were ridiculous, and you wanted a pair
of steps to get up into the train. Whatever romance there might be in
France had been brought by Audrey in her secret heart and by Lady