“Really! But you have seen her this morning. You came to my house.”
“No———”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Ilam, I saw you from my——”
“Ah!—from your balcony? You saw me cross the avenue, but you did not see me enter your house. You could not have seen that from your balcony, even if I had entered; and, as it happens, I didn’t enter.”
“My servants say you came.”
“Your servants probably say a good many things, Mr. Carpentaria,” she smiled humorously.
The musician felt himself against a stone wall. “Can I see your son?” he asked at length of the imperturbable old woman.
“My son is in bed and far from well,” said Mrs. Ilam.
“Then I should like to talk to you instead,” said Carpentaria.
She seemed to burst into welcome.