"

I don't know where she expected us to go. She still sat in the car as if
held there by the shock of recognition. She ignored my outstretched hand.

"You'd better take your things," she said at last, "if you want to get
out here. I'm going on to look for Jimmy."

I had then my first full sense of what I was in for. I saw that she was
perfectly prepared to throw me over, to dump me down here or anywhere
else and go on by herself with the car and the chauffeur that were, or
ought to have been, mine.

She didn't care if I was Special Correspondent to the _Morning Standard_,
and she had that beastly chauffeur in her pocket all the time. (I
discovered afterwards that she'd laid in food for him and hidden it in
the locker under the front seat, so that they might be ready for any
sort of adventure.) And yet in the very moment that I realized her
disastrous obstinacy I found her intolerably pathetic.

"If you want to look for Jimmy," I said, "you'd better get out too. He'll
be here if he's anywhere in Ghent."

But she was already on the kerb, brushing me aside. She had seen behind
my back the approach of the concierge and she made for him.

"Is Mr. Jevons in this hotel--Mr. Tasker Jevons?"

Yes, Mr. Chevons was in the hotel. Madame would find him in the lounge.

She had swept past him to the stair of the lounge, and I was following
her discreetly when the proprietor dashed out of his bureau to intercept
us. The lounge, he said, was reserved from seven till nine o'clock for
the officers of the General Staff.

Viola had paid no attention to the proprietor and was sweeping up the
stair. I gave Jevons's name and explained that the lady was Mrs. Jevons.

The proprietor, a portly and pompous Belgian, positively dissolved in
smiles and bows and apologetic gestures. _Mille pardons, monsieur, mille
pardons._ It would be _all_ right. Monsieur Chevons was dining with the
officers of the General Staff.

He did not know that Madame was expected. He was to reserve a room for
Monsieur?

I told him to reserve rooms for me and the chauffeur, and to consult Mr.
Jevons about Madame. And I hurried up the stair after Viola.

She was waiting for me at the turn, on the landing, by the wide archway
of the lounge, where the great glass screen began that shut off the
staircase. She stood back from the entrance, looking in, and smiling at
what she saw. It was clear by her attitude and her absorption that
something was happening in there