"No; I couldn't; besides, listen to the rain, and—and I'm not dressed, you see."
"You don't want me to go alone?"
"Oh, no, no, no," she protested. "I have so much to say—"
"Very well. I'll stop, and I'll eat; but on one condition. You must eat, too."
"I can't," she insisted. "I can't, really. I'd choke."
"Try it," he insisted, in turn. "If you choke I'll let you off."
There was consommé, and there were chops—done to a turn—and a cobwebbed bottle of Pommard. Of the wine Andrews forced her to sip the better part of a glass, and was rewarded by a faint show of color in her lips and cheeks.
It stimulated her appetite, too, and she managed to swallow a few spoonfuls of the soup and a little lean, red meat of a chop. After which he called her a brave girl and assured her that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her in return.
"I want you, the very first thing in the morning, to go to Regent's Park," she said. "I want you to go where the tigers are, and to ask questions of the guards. They can can tell you whether it is true that a gentleman has been there recently, acting strangely."
"I'll be there when the gates open," returned Gerald. "What else?"