Then she thought of Lady Victoria, and she rang the bell.

But Lady Victoria had gone out with her brother, and they had taken Miss Skeat.
Margaret was left alone in the great hotel.

Far off she could hear a door shut or the clatter of the silver covers of some belated breakfast service finding its way up or down stairs.

And in the street the eternal clatter and hum and crunch, and crunch and hum and clatter of men and wheels; the ceaseless ring of the tram-cars stopping every few steps to pick up a passenger, and the jingle of the horses' bells as they moved on.

It was hot--it was very hot.