Within an hour Mrs. Durlacher descended to the dining-room. The gown
she wore would not have pleased a man to infatuation; but a woman
would have realized its beauty, known its value. With deft fingers,
she arranged the flowers. In a chair by the fire, hiding herself from
view to any one outside the window, she sat and watched the table
being laid, giving orders how the vases were to be placed on the old
oak table.
"Lay two places--that's all," she said.
Taylor looked up. "I thought you said there would be a lady with Mr.
Traill, madam."
"I said--probably. You can lay another place if she comes." A vision
crossed her mind of making so small a point as that, a moment of
embarrassment for her unwelcome guest.
Then a sound reached her ears. Her eyes were arrested, fixed
unseeingly to a point before her as she listened.
"Is that a motor, Taylor?"
Taylor looked out of the window. "It's a taxi-cab, madam."
"Can you see who's inside?"
"I suppose it's Mr. Traill, madam. Yes--it is."
"Any one with him?"
"Yes, madam--a lady."
CHAPTER II
Circumstances will almost make a character in a day; in three years,
a character can be moulded, bent, twisted or straightened, in the
furnace of events; just as the potter, idling with the passive clay,
will shape it, heedlessly almost, as the fancy nerves his fingers.
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