'Did you speak with him?'
The chauffeur shook his head. 'Not a word. He saw me and nodded, though.'
Feeling guilty, Pamela said to Mrs. Dewhurst, 'Why didn't you sleep on the plane?'
The older woman smiled benevolently. 'My dear, I have been awake since early yesterday, except for a brief catnap. It's the best way I know of to deal with jet-lag. And stop looking as though every little thing you do is somehow reprehensible! If you actually do do something wrong, I won't hesitate to let you know it.' She smiled to offset the threat.
Pamela found that she very much wanted to please Mrs. Dewhurst, that she didn't want to do anything which might jeopardise the woman's kindness towards her.
The hotel turned out to be of a similar type to that they'd left. Mrs. Dewhurst left most of her luggage in the limousine. Pamela noted that it was a larger but similar version of the car that the woman had been driving when they first met, with the same hood-ornament which resembled a swimmer standing at the edge of a pool, poised to take the plunge; except that the limousine's steering wheel was on the 'wrong' side, and it was as long as a city block.
To her surprise, after sharing a late snack with her fairy godmother, Pamela found that she could easily sleep once more, and did. As she drifted off, something of the reversed cars and roads she had seen haunted the background of her thoughts, causing her to feel as though she had strayed through a mirror, like Alice in Wonderland. 'Just as long as there are no talking giant white rabbits,' she mused as sleep overcame her.
Pamela woke the next morning to find that Mrs. Dewhurst was already up and busy at work. The woman looked up when Pamela stumbled into the sitting room in search of the bathroom.
'Did you meet any giant white rabbits while you were asleep?' Mrs. Dewhurst asked her with a smile.
Aghast, Pamela put her hands over her mouth, causing Mrs. Dewhurst to regard her with frank amusement.
'Not to worry, you didn't say anything else; at least, nothing that was incriminating! But come along, you'll find the bath through that door over there. You'll find that towels and soap- What am I saying? You already know all about that sort of thing! Never mind me. As soon as you're ready, we'll go on downstairs and breakfast.'
Pamela was very uncomfortable as she followed Mrs. Dewhurst into the hotel's restaurant, conscious of her own appearance in contrast to the well-to-do clientele who, to her, gave off an aura of exclusivity, which of course meant that it was she herself who was excluded. She couldn't help but imagine that everyone was surreptitiously staring at her and commenting behind her back. She unconsciously followed closely behind Mrs. Dewhurst, hoping that by doing so the woman's presence would deflect any unwanted attention.