"Oh, thank you," said Miss Greta, with her smile. But it was the look on Nan's face that struck Napier--a look that haunted him afterwards. If it hadn't been absurd, he would have thought she was thanking him with all her soul; was _giving_ him something. Something of unbelievable sweetness, "just because I stooped to pick up that woman's gloves!"
It was all in a flash. The next moment Nan stood buttoning up the coat she had so lately unbuttoned, and saying, "If you really must, I'm coming too!"--her eyes angry, her face ashamed. Miss von Schwarzenberg made no answer. Lady McIntyre was jerking out a succession of nervous questions which nobody took the trouble to notice.
"What we're coming to, _I_ don't know." Sir William fumed and strutted up and down.
"Yes, Sir William." The servant stood there.
"Where's the _tea_?" Lady McIntyre in a sinking ship would have cried, "Where's the lifeboat?" with much the same accent and look of desperation.
"It's coming, m'lady. It's on the way up."
"Didn't I tell you five minutes ago"--the footman was catching it on the other side now--"you were to telephone for the car?"
"Yes, Sir William. It's coming round now, Sir William."
"Come, then," Miss Greta said, as though Nan were the person desired by the police. "I'm afraid I must carry you off."
"Oh, my dear!" Lady McIntyre rose with precipitation. Her work-bag rolled to the ground, but she didn't notice. Her blue eyes were on Greta's face a second, and then turned beseechingly on her husband.
"William!" She hurried over to him. "Surely, William, _you_--"
"Mere red-tape--mere red-tape, my dear," he said to his wife. "Though, if Lord Dacre wasn't coming over at half-past six on official business--I'd go with you," he said handsomely to Miss von Schwarzenberg. Miss von Schwarzenberg murmured politely in her veil that she wouldn't on any account have Sir William take so much trouble.
Lady McIntyre had jerked her head at Napier. But Napier seemed not to know his part in this scene. He stood silent, looking at the indignant face of Miss Greta's "little friend."
"It's too dreadful to let you go without one of us!" Lady McIntyre wailed. "Shall _I_ come, Greta dear?" And then, a good deal unstrung at the possibility of having her offer accepted: "N-not that I'd be much good, I'm afraid. I was never in a police station in my life."