“I saw Nina Frost once when I was last in England,” I said after a long pause. “If you ever meet her again, you’ll find her a good deal changed. She’s quite a woman of the world now.”
“She’s the last person in the whole world that I wish to meet!”
“I understand that. It couldn’t be pleasant for either of you. Well, probably you never will.”
“Yes, we shall. It isn’t all finished between me and Nina yet. I had my victory; I threw it away. I saw her in her awful humiliation; how will she see me next, I wonder!”
“Isn’t that sort of idea very—well, fanciful, Lucinda?”
She made no reply; the veil had fallen over her eyes; she gave a little shiver.
“It’s cold here,” I said. “Let’s go where it’s warm and light—to the restaurant—and finish the evening.” I smiled as I added, “And the story too, please.”
“I can bring it right up to date. I had a letter from Arsenio to-day.”
I was conscious of a slight shock of surprise. I had been thinking of Arsenio as a historical figure—an episode in her past. He was, however, also an existing fact; but what sort of a fact? About that I was still ignorant.