As she entered the house Hastead tried to detain her, but she had no patience for domestic trivia at this moment, and she silenced him, saying: "Bring me a glass of warm milk." She had a pain in her stomach.
She went to her room. She sat at her dressing table and opened her jewelry box. There was very little in it. What she had was worth only a few hundred pounds. She pulled out the bottom tray, took out a piece of folded silk and unwrapped it to reveal the serpent-shaped gold ring that Strang had given her. As always, she slipped it on her finger and brushed the jeweled head against her lips. She would never sell this. How different everything would have been if she had been allowed to marry Strang. For a moment she felt like crying.
Then she heard strange voices outside her bedroom door. A man ... two men, perhaps ... and a woman. They did not sound like servants and anyway her staff would not have the temerity to stand around conversing on the landing. She stepped outside.
The door to her late husband's room was open and the voices came from in there. When she went in Augusta saw a young man, obviously a clerk, and an older, well-dressed couple of her own class. She had never set eyes on any of them before. She said: "In heaven's name who are you?"
The clerk said deferentially: "Stoddart, from the agents, my lady. Mr. and Mrs. de Graaf are very interested in buying your beautiful house--"
"Get out!" she said.
The clerk's voice rose to a squeak. "We have received instructions to put the house on the market--"
"Get out this minute! My house is not for sale!"
"But I personally spoke--"
Mr. de Graaf touched Stoddart's arm and silenced him. "An embarrassing mistake, quite obviously, Mr. Stoddart," he said mildly. He turned to his wife. "Shall we leave, my dear?" The two of them walked out with a quiet dignity that made Augusta seethe, and Stoddart scurried after them, spilling apologies everywhere.
Hugh was responsible. Augusta did not have to make inquiries to establish that. The house was the property of the syndicate that had rescued the bank, he said, and they naturally wished to sell it. He had told Augusta to move out, but she had refused. His response was to send prospective buyers to view the place anyway.
She sat down in Joseph's chair. Her butler came in with her hot milk. She said: "You are not to admit any more such people, Hastead--the house is not for sale."
"Very good, my lady." He set down her drink and hovered.
"Is there something else?" she asked him.
