"Why not?" said Miss Middleton, looking up. "Oh, I see."
"And now," I said, when I had finished my business with a sardine, "tell me all about it. I know something serious must have brought you up to London. What is it? Have you run away from home?"
Miss Middleton nodded. "Sir Henery," she added dramatically, "waits for me in his yacht at Dover. My parents would not hear of the marriage, and immured me in the spare room. They tried to turn me against my love, and told wicked stories about him, vowing that he smoked five non-throat cigarettes in a day. Er—would you pass the pepper, please?"
"Go on," I begged. "Never mind the pepper."
"But, of course, I really came to see you," said Miss Middleton briskly. "I want you to do something for me."
"I knew it."
"Oh, do say you'd love to."
I drained my glass and felt very brave.
"I'd love to," I said doubtfully. "At least, if I were sure that——" I lowered my voice: "Look here—have I got to write to anybody?"
"No," said Miss Middleton.