Fortunately my mistress and her husband were now ready to go up to their rooms, and we left Monsieur Charretier engaging quarters for himself and his chauffeur. Evidently he was going to stop all night; but from his indifference to me I judged joyfully that he had not come to the hotel armed with information concerning my movements. He might be searching for his lost love, but he did n't know that she was at hand.
All my pleasure in the thought of sightseeing at Avignon was gone, like a broken bubble. I should n't dare to see any sights, lest I should be seen. But stopping indoors would n't mean safety. Lady's-maids can't keep their rooms without questions being asked; and if I pretended to be ill, very likely Lady Turnour would discharge me on the spot, and leave me behind as if I were a cast-off glove. Yet if I flitted about the corridors between my mistress's room and mine, I might run up against the enemy at any minute.
I tried to mend the ravelled edges of my courage by reminding myself that Monsieur Charretier could n't pick me up in his motor-car, and run off with me against my will; but the argument was n't much of a stimulant. To be sure, he could n't use violence, nor would he try; but if he found me here he would "have it out" with me, and he would tell things to Lady Turnour which would induce her to send me about my business with short shrift.
He could say that I 'd run away from my relatives, who were also my guardians, and altogether he could make out a case against me which would look a dark brown, if not black. Then, when Lady Turnour and Sir Samuel
