When Richard had finished his coffee, it occurred to him to mention Miss Roberts.
"Do you ever go to the Crabtree?" he asked.
"Not of late."
"I only ask because there's a girl there who knows you. She inquired of me how you were not long since."
"A girl who knows me? Who the devil may she be?"
"I fancy her name's Roberts."
"Aha! So she's got a new place, has she? She lives in my street. That's how I know her. Nice little thing, rather!"
He made no further remark on the subject, but there remained an absent, amused smile on his face, and he pulled at his lower lip and fastened his gaze on the table.
"You must come down sometime, and see me; my niece keeps house for me," he said before they separated, giving an address in Fulham. He wrung Richard's hand, patted him on the shoulder, winking boyishly, and went off whistling to himself very quietly in the upper register.