The young men left the coat-room and came down the short flight of
steps that leads to the wide lounge of the restaurant. Ford slightly in
advance, searching with his eyes for Mrs Ashton, found her seated alone
in the lounge, evidently waiting for him. At the first glance she was
hardly be recognized. Her low-cut dinner gown of black satin that clung
to her like a wet bath robe was the last word of the new fashion; and
since Ford had seen her her blond hair had been arranged by an artist.
Her appearance was smart, elegant, daring. She was easily the prettiest
and most striking-looking woman in the room, and for an instant Ford
stood gazing at her, trying to find in the self-possessed young woman
the deserted wife of the steamer. She did not see Ford. Her eyes were
following the progress down the hall of a woman, and her profile was
toward him.

The thought of the happiness he was about to bring to two young people
gave Ford the sense of a genuine triumph, and when he turned to
Ashton to point out his wife to him he was thrilling with pride and
satisfaction. His triumph received a bewildering shock. Already Ashton
had discovered the presence of Mrs. Ashton. He was standing transfixed,
lost to his surroundings, devouring her with his eyes. And then, to the
amazement of Ford, his eyes filled with fear, doubt, and anger. Swiftly,
with the movement of a man ducking a blow, he turned and sprang up the
stairs and into the coat-room. Ford, bewildered and more conscious of
his surroundings, followed him less quickly, and was in consequence only
in time to see Ashton, dragging his overcoat behind him, disappear into
the court-yard. He seized his own coat and raced in pursuit. As he ran
into the court-yard Ashton, in the Strand, was just closing the door of
a taxicab, but before the chauffeur could free it from the surrounding
traffic, Ford had dragged the door open, and leaped inside. Ashton was