"One would almost imagine, Lady Cynthia," he said, as they
exchanged greetings, "that you had found that elixir we were
talking about."
"Perhaps I have," she answered, smiling. "Are you looking for
Margaret? She is somewhere about. We were just having a chat
when I was literally carried off by that terrible Lanchester
woman. Let's find her."
They strolled up into the lounge. Margaret came to meet them.
Her smile, as she gave Francis her left hand, transformed and
softened her whole appearance.
"You don't mind my having asked Cynthia to lunch with us?" she
said. "I really couldn't get rid of the girl. She came in to
see me this morning the most aggressively cheerful person I ever
knew. I believe that she had an adventure last night. All that
she will tell me is that she dined and danced at Claridge's with
a party of the dullest people in town."
A tall, familiar figure passed down the vestibule. Lady Cynthia
gave a little start, and Francis, who happened to be watching
her, was amazed at her expression.
"Your father, Margaret!" she pointed out. "I wonder if he is
lunching here."
"He told me that he was lunching somewhere with a South American
friend--one of his partners, I believe," Margaret replied. "I
expect he is looking for him."
Sir Timothy caught sight of them, hesitated for a moment and came
slowly in their direction.
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