had not seen her again till nearly evening and even then at a distance. She had stood in one of the large bow-windows of the upper storey and stared at him below on the lawn. Presently she had indulged in a's eries of extraordinary gestures, apparently fraught with a sinister meaning, but quite incomprehensible to Ambrose.
Now, approaching him, she held a warning finger to her lips, whispering melodramatically, Sh! We must be careful. Imperia suspects.
Ambrose was quite willing to be careful. He hoped this injunction included the assurance that Mama would share no more confidences with him. He required another cocktail, and offered one to Mrs. Starling.
I daren't take more than a little sip, Mama explained.
Where is Miss Starling, Ambrose inquired.
Oh, she won't be ready for hours. She's always late. That's why all the others are late too. They know Imperia.
Who is coming?
I don't know, Mama replied, sipping her cocktail. I really don't know. Then waving her hand aimlessly, she added vaguely, Oh, everybody!
