Only the dark lines of the waiting crowd met her view, with the yellow newspaper placards flitting in and out, announcing to an indifferent public the fate of Essex wickets.

As far as her searching eyes could travel the green stretch of tree and sward remained unbroken, save by casual loiterers.

No small brown columns appeared, no drum beat came throbbing up from the distance.

The little flags pegged out to mark the positions of the awaited scout-corps fluttered in meaningless isolation on the empty parade ground.
His Majesty was talking unconcernedly with one of his officers, the foreign attaches looked steadily between their chargers' ears, as though nothing in particular was hanging in the balance, the Abyssinian Envoy displayed an untroubled serenity which was probably genuine.

Elsewhere among the Suite was a perceptible fidget, the more obvious because it was elaborately cloaked.