“I have never heard of him,” he cried; “where have you know him?”
“In Paris. And then I met him on the train—”
Von Ibn’s eyes grew large with fright.
“But you must not meet men on trains,” he said; “that is not at all proper for you.”
“He took charge of me from Paris to Lucerne,” she said soothingly; “he is really very delightful—”
“I did not see him at Lucerne,” he interrupted.
“No, he was gone when you came.”
“How old is he?”
His heat subsided suddenly, and there was a pause during which she felt circulation returning slowly to her arm.