She felt,
however, a very slight sense of peril--of the unreality of the plush
fauteuil on which she sat, and those rows of vaguely discerned faces
on her right; and the reality of distant phenomena such as Mrs. Maldon
in bed. Notwithstanding her strange and ecstatic experiences with
Louis Fores that night in the dark, romantic town, the problem of the
lost money remained, or ought to have remained, as disturbing as ever.
To ignore it was not to destroy it. She sat rather tight in her place,
increasing her primness, and trying to show by her carriage that she
was an adult in full control of all her wise faculties. She set her
lips to judge the film with the cold impartiality of middle age, but
they persisted in being the fresh, responsive, mobile lips of a young
girl. They were saying noiselessly: "He will be back in a moment.
And he will find me sitting here just as he left me. When I hear him
coming I shan't turn my head to look. It will be better not."
The film showed a forest with a wooden house in the middle of it. Out
of this house came a most adorable young woman, who leaped on to a
glossy horse and galloped at a terrific rate, plunging down ravines,
and then trotting fast over the crests of clearings.
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