At once the suffocation ceased, the panorama sank, the scene shifted,
the curtain parted, the drama proceeded and she found herself staring at
Paliser, who was staring at her.
"As it is----" he tentatively resumed and would have said more, a lot,
anything to coerce the tears to her eyes and with them surrender.
She gave him no chance. She took the bundle and, before he could
continue, she passed him, opened the door, slammed it with a din that
had in it the clatter of muskets, went down the stair and out to the
perron, before which stood a car.
"The station!" she threw at the mechanician.
The house now, jarred a moment earlier by the crash of porcelain and the
slamming door, had recovered its silence.
From within, Emma, very agreeably intrigued, a footman with a white
sensual face beside her, looked out with slanting eyes.