Meadows got the thing adjusted."
This long, detailed, shameless speech affected the aged soldier
at the window. It seemed to him immodest bravado. And he
suffered in his heart, as a man old and full of memories can
suffer for the damaged honor of a son he loves.
Continuing, the girl said: "Of course it isn't true that we spent
the nights touring the east coast of England in a racer. It was
dark sometimes when we got in - occasionally after trouble with
the lights - quite dark. We did go thundering distances."
"With this person, alone?" The old woman spoke slowly, like one
delicately probing at a wound.
"Yes," the girl admitted. "You see, the car was a roadster; only
two could go; and, besides, there was no one else. Mr. Meadows
said he was alone in London, and of course I was alone. When Sir
Henry asked me to go down from here I went straight off to the
Ritz."
The old woman made a slight, shivering gesture. "You should have
gone to my sister in Grosvenor Square. Monte would have put you
up - and looked after you."
"The Ritz put me up very well," the girl continued. "And I am
accustomed to looking after myself.
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