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AN EPILOGUE - The Lion's Share
| | Page 221 of 228 | | |
Audrey was walking along Piccadilly when she overtook Miss Ingate, who had been arrested by a shop window, the window of one of the shops recently included in the vast edifice of the Hotel Majestic.
Miss Ingate gave a little squeal of surprise. The two kissed very heartily in the street, which was full of spring and of the posters of evening papers bearing melodramatic tidings of the latest nocturnal development of the terrible suffragette campaign.
"You said eleven, Audrey. It isn't eleven yet."
"Well, I'm behind time. I meant to be all spruced up and receive you in state at the hotel. But the boat was three hours late at Harwich. I jumped into a cab at Liverpool Street, but I got out at Piccadilly Circus because the streets looked so fine and I felt I really must walk a bit."
"And where's your husband?"
"He's at Liverpool Street trying to look after the luggage. He lost some of it at Hamburg. He likes looking after luggage, so I just left him at it."
Miss Ingate's lower lip dropped at the corners.
"You've had a tiff."
"Winnie, we haven't."
"Did you go to all his concerts?"
"All. I heard all his practising, and I sat in the stalls at all his concerts. Quite contrary to my principles, of course. But, Winnie, it's very queer, I _wanted_ to do it. So naturally I did it. We've never been apart--until now."
"And it's not exaggerated, what you've written me about his success?"
"Not a bit. I've been most careful not to exaggerate. In fact, I've tried to be gloomy. No use, however! It was a triumph.... And how's all this business?" Audrey demanded, in a new key, indicating an orange-tinted newspaper bill that was being flaunted in front of her.
"Oh! I believe it's dreadful. Of course, you know Rosamund's in prison. But they'll have to let her out soon. Jane Foley--she still calls herself Foley--hasn't been caught. And that's funny. I doubled my subscription. We had to, you see. But that's all I've done. They don't have processions and things now, and barrel organs are _quite_ out of fashion. What with that, and my rheumatism!... I used to think I should live to vote myself. I feel I shan't now. So I've gone back into water-colours. They're very soothing, if you let the paper dry after each wash and don't take them seriously.... Now, I'm a very common-sense woman, Audrey, as you must have noticed, and I'm not subject to fancies. Will you just look at the girl on the left hand in this window here, and tell me whether I'm dreaming or not?"
Miss Ingate indicated the shop window which had arrested her. The establishment was that of a hair specialist, and the window was mainly occupied by two girls who sat in arm-chairs with their backs to the glass, and all their magnificent hair spread out at length over the backs of the chairs for the inspection of the public; the implication being that the magnificent hair was due to the specific of the hair specialist. Passers-by continually stopped to gaze at the spectacle, but they never stopped long, because the spectacle was monotonous. 
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