But even with the three sides of the box affording their false show of
privacy, it never entered Lucinda's head to sit down and pretend nothing
had happened, the instinct to fly at once from this theatre of disgrace
was still predominant. Only for a moment she rested standing, while her
eyes, darkly dilate, sought Daubeney's, which held a look of such
heart-broken regret that they won a compassionate smile even in her hour
of affliction, and somehow helped Lucinda pull together the rent and
draggled garment of her dignity.
"At least," she said quietly, "Julie Allingham isn't here--thank Heaven
for that! You saw him, of course?"