He smiled back at her indulgently as he led the way to his car. "A man who got caught in an automobile smash-up early this evening. I was on the spot and he has asked me to finish the matter. He is rich, so I am very attentive." He laughed, showing his white teeth. "I am taking him out something to make him sleep, otherwise he will have a bad night."
Claire forced her interest to the point of inquiring, "Was he seriously hurt?"
"Oh, not at all! He rode into a street-car and got a nasty blow—on the head. But, of course, one can never tell. He is a countryman of yours. Perhaps you have heard of him. His name is Stillman."
Claire did not reply. She was surprised into silence. She had fancied that the Greek quarter would close the door on any vistas of her former life.
"I understand that he made a million dollars last week by a trick of fortune," Danilo went on vivaciously. "Shares in a copper-mine ... or something quite as wonderful.... I must interest him in the cause."
"The cause?... What cause?" Claire inquired.
"Why—why, the Serbian cause, of course! You do not mean to tell me that you have forgotten our talk already?"
They had reached the car, and Danilo lifted Claire in.
"No, I haven't forgotten. As a matter of fact, I've been intending to look up some books on Serbia."
His eyes were glowing. "No!... Did you, really? I tell you—I shall bring you some books to-morrow."