Perhaps, also, out of fear that I might meet with Richard Dawson, alone and unprotected.
When we drove up in front of the Ardaraghs' house the hall door stood open.

There was not a soul in sight; not even a friendly dog came down the steps to greet us, though usually there were half a dozen of them.
I rang and knocked but no one came.

It was five in the afternoon, and I guessed that Lady Ardaragh might be out and the servants at tea somewhere in the back premises.
However, I was not to be put off by an unanswered bell since the door stood open.

I knew my way about the house well, and was on terms of sufficient intimacy to announce myself.
I guessed that the most likely place to find Lady Ardaragh would be the little inner drawing-room of which she had made a boudoir, to which were admitted only her favoured and intimate visitors.
I went through the house without meeting any one.

There was not a sound.
Often at this hour Lady Ardaragh had the boy with her; but if he had been there now I should have heard his shouts and laughter as I had heard them before.