I surveyed these preparations with some interest. The temporary departure
of Mrs. Bundercombe would, I felt, have an enlivening influence upon the
establishment. As I turned in at the gate Mrs. Bundercombe herself
appeared. She was followed by a young woman who looked distinctly bored
and whom I was not at first able to place. Mrs. Bundercombe was in a state
of unusual excitement.
"Say, Mr. Walmsley," she began, and her voice seemed to come from her
forehead--it was so shrill and nasal; "how long will it take me to get to
St. Pancras?"
I looked at the four-wheeler, on the roof of which another servant was now
arranging a typewriter in its tin case.
"I should say about thirty-five minutes--in that!" I replied. "A taxi
would do it in a quarter of an hour."
"None of your taxis for me!" Mrs. Bundercombe declared warmly. "I am not
disposed to trust myself to a piece of machinery that can be made to tell
any sort of lies. I like to pay my fare and no more. If thirty-five
minutes will get me to St. Pancras, then I guess I'll make my train."
"You are leaving us for a few days?" I remarked, suddenly catching a
glimpse of a face like a round moon beaming at me from the window.
"I have received a dispatch," Mrs.
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