“Well, I’m Nina’s guest just now; frankly, I don’t think she’d like it.”
“There’s no reason to tell, is there?”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t mean to tell her. But you turned up!”
He laughed. “Oh, I won’t tell her either. We’ll keep it dark, old fellow.”
“But you’ve arranged to meet him at lunch again to-morrow.”
“Nina will be lunching here—with the Forresters, so that will be all right, though it’s a doubtful point whether affording us bed and board gives Nina a right of control over the company we keep outside the house.”
“I just had a feeling——”
“Yes. Well, perhaps you’re right.” He was standing before the fire, smoking a cigar; he seemed to ponder the little question of morals, or etiquette, for a moment. Then he smiled. “So that’s the dashing lover who cut out poor Waldo and ran away with the famous Lucinda, is it? But where’s the lady, Julius?”
“I haven’t any idea. She wasn’t at the place where I found him to-day. Why do you want to know where she is?”