Now as Grace's hour approached she was not so sure.
"Well, I'm not afraid," she reassured herself with her favourite defiance."She can't eat me.And it's my house."Paul had not noticed the alterations.He was always blind to his surroundings unless they were what he called "queer."There was the rattle of the cab-wheels on the drive and a moment later Grace was in the hall.
"Dear Paul--Maggie, dear..."
She stood there, a very solid and assured figure.She was square and thick and reminded Maggie to-day of Mrs.Noah; her clothes stood cut out around her as though they had been cut in wood.She had her large amiable smile, and the kiss that she gave Maggie was a wet, soft, and very friendly one.
"Now I think I'll have tea at once without taking my hat off.In Paul's study? That's nice...Maggie, dear, how are you? Such a journey! But astonishing! Just fancy! I got into Charing Cross and then--! Why! Here's the study! Fancy!...Maggie, dear, how are you? Well? That's right.Why, there's tea! That's right.Everything just as it was.Fancy!..." She took off her gloves, smiled, seated herself more comfortably, then began to look about the room.
Suddenly there came: "Why, Paul, where's the Emmanuel football group?"There was a moment's silence.Maggie felt her heart give a little bump, as it seemed to her, right against the roof of her mouth.Paul (so like him) had not noticed that the football group had vanished.
He stared at the blank place on the wall where it had once been.