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Miss Bracegirdle's Night of Fear

‘This is the room, madame.’
‘Oh thank you, thank you.’
‘Does madame like the room?’
‘Oh yes. Thank you. It is very nice.’
‘Does madam want anything more?’
If it is not too late, I want to have a hot bath.’
‘That is quite easy, madame. The bathroom is the room at the end of this floor, on the left. I can get the bath ready for madame.’
‘There is just one more thing. I came by train from England today, so I am very tired. Please do not bring my breakfast too early tomorrow. I want to have a good sleep tonight.’
‘I understand, madame.’
The girl went off to get the bath ready.
Millicent Bracegirdle was right. She was tired. She thought of Easingstoke, her home town, now so far away. She remembered the drive to London early that morning; the train from London to Dover; the boat to Calais. Then another train to Paris.
By lunchtime, she was in a third train, going from Paris to Bordeaux. Now, here she was in the hotel. It was twelve o’clock at night.

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