Explore "The Indiscretion of the Duchess" by Antonio Hope on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Slowly the afternoon wore away. My content had given place to urgent impatience, and I longed every moment for the summons to action. None came; and a quarter to five I went downstairs, hoping to find some means of whiling away the interval of time. Pushing open the door of the little _salle-à-manger_, I was presented with a back view of my host M. Bontet, who was leaning out of the window. Just as I entered, he shouted "Ready at six!" Then he turned swiftly round, having, I suppose, heard my entrance; at the same moment, the sound of a door violently slammed struck on my ear across the yard. I moved quickly up to the window. The stable door was shut; and Bontet faced me with a surly frown on his brow.
"What is to be ready at six?" I asked.