III
Three weeks and three days before the ball Denry Machin was seated one
Monday alone in Mr Duncalf's private offices in Duck Square (where he
carried on his practice as a solicitor), when in stepped a tall and
pretty young woman, dressed very smartly but soberly in dark green. On
the desk in front of Denry were several wide sheets of "abstract" paper,
concealed by a copy of that morning's _Athletic News_. Before Denry
could even think of reversing the positions of the abstract paper and
the _Athletic News_ the young woman said "Good-morning!" in a very
friendly style. She had a shrill voice and an efficient smile.
"Good-morning, madam," said Denry.
"Mr Duncalf in?" asked the young woman brightly.
(Why should Denry have slipped off his stool? It is utterly against
etiquette for solicitors' clerks to slip off their stools while
answering inquiries.)
"No, madam; he's across at the Town Hall," said Denry.
The young lady shook her head playfully, with a faint smile.
"I've just been there," she said. "They said he was here."
"I daresay I could find him, madam--if you would----"
She now smiled broadly.
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