Lord Holme did not say a word.
"Where is the Duchess?" Lady Holme added. "Ah, there she is!"
She saw the Duchess hurriedly going towards the place where the Duke was
sitting, intercepted her swiftly, and bade her good-night.
"Now, Fritz!" she said.
She was conscious that a number of people were watching her, and her
voice and manner were absolutely unembarrassed. A footman took the number
of her cloak from Lord Holme and fetched the cloak. A voice cried in the
distance, "Lord Holme's carriage!" Another, and nearer voice, echoed the
call. She passed slowly between two lines of men over a broad strip of
carpet to the portico, and stepped into the brougham.
As it glided away into the night she heard her husband's loud breathing.
He did not speak for two or three minutes, but breathed like a man who
had been running, and moved violently in the carriage as if to keep still
were intolerable to him. The window next to him was up. He let it down.
Then he turned right round to his wife, who was leaning back in her
corner wrapped up in her black cloak.
"With the Duke sittin' there!" he said in a loud voice. "With the Duke
sittin' there!"
There was a sound of outrage in the voice.
"Didn't I kick that sweep out of the house?" he added. "Didn't I?"
"I believe you asked Mr. Carey not to call anymore."
Lady Holme's voice had no excitement in it.
"Asked him! I--"
"Don't make such a noise, Fritz.
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