"You admit it?"
"I do indeed! Surely I could hardly refuse to go when I was asked?"
"Oh, you were asked?"
"Certainly. And Romer is really such a very old friend of mine, I could hardly refuse his request. I may be wrong, but I think one should always be ready to take a little trouble for an old friend."
"No doubt you have very strict ideas on the duties and obligations of friendship! At his request—my son's?"
"Yes; your son asked me to go and escort Valentia."
"It is very peculiar; you must see that your explanation sounds extremely odd."
"Not at all odd," he answered softly, "if you will allow me to contradict you." He thought a moment. Then he went on: "You may have heard, perhaps, about the dance that little American, Mrs. Newhaven, is getting up at the Grafton Galleries for Deaf and Dumb Dogs and Cats. No? Well, every one is going, and they're arranging to have, by way of novelty, Quadrilles of different nationalities. Romer and his wife are to dance in the Egyptian Quadrille, and he asked me to take her to the British Museum to look round and see if we could find some inspiration for Egyptian costumes that wouldn't be too impossible. But when we got there, we suddenly remembered the awful story about one of the mummies being unlucky, so we went into the Print Room and remained there."
De Freyne paused.
"Of course, if that is all—if my son knows of your going, and even asked you to go, there's nothing more to be said ... though I think it very foolish, and I don't approve of any of that sort of thing at all."