Lavinia turned to Vane a little ruffled.
"You don't recollect me," she said. "The money's ours. I didn't want it but you did and so I brought it back. I'm so glad I was in time and that you're rid of that horrid man."
Lancelot Vane stared fixedly at her. The events of the night before were mixed up in his mind and he had but a dim remembrance of the girl's face. Indeed he had caught only a momentary glimpse of it.
"Was it you, madam, who were pursued by those ruffians?" he stammered. "I'm grateful that you've come to no harm."
"Oh, it was all your doing," cried Lavinia, eagerly, "you were so brave and kind. I was too frightened last night to think of anything but getting away and I didn't thank you. I want to do so now."
"No, no. It's you who should be thanked. Don't stand there, pray. Do come inside. It's a frightfully dirty room but it's the best I have."
"But I—I must get back."
"You're in no hurry, I hope. I've so much I would like to say to you."
"What can you have? We're such strangers," she protested.
"Just now we are perhaps, but every minute we talk together makes us less so. Please enter."