And at that minute the front-door bell rang.
Virginia jumped. In a few minutes it rang again. Élise, she knew, was upstairs packing and wouldn’t hear it.
Virginia went out in the hall, drew back the chain, and undid all the bolts that Élise had fastened in her zeal. Then, with a long breath, she threw open the door. On the steps was the unemployed young man.
Virginia plunged headlong with a relief born of overstrung nerves.
“Come in,” she said. “I think that perhaps I’ve got a job for you.”
She took him into the dining-room, pulled toward a chair for him, sat down herself facing him, and stared at him very attentively.
“Excuse me,” she said, “but are you—I mean—”
“Eton and Oxford,” said the young man. “That’s what you wanted to ask me, wasn’t it?”
“Something of the kind,” admitted Virginia.
“Come down in the world entirely through my own incapacity to stick to regular work. This isn’t regular work you’re offering me, I hope?”
A smile hovered for a moment on her lips.
“It’s very irregular.”
“Good,” said the young man in a tone of satisfaction.
Virginia noted his bronzed face and long lean body with approval.
“You see,” she explained, “I’m in rather a hole, and most of my friends are—well, rather high up. They’ve all got something to lose.”
“I’ve nothing whatever to lose. So go ahead. What’s the trouble?”