“Well, I had the chance to go,” said Drake. “But it wasn’t good enough. It’s against you in the City, you know. Waste of time really, except of course for a parson or a schoolmaster.”
“Yes, I expect it would have been rather a waste of time for you,” Michael agreed.
“Oh, rotten! So you moved from—where was it?—Carlington Road?”
“Yes, we moved to Cheyne Walk.”
“Let’s see. That’s in Hampstead, isn’t it?”
“Well, it’s rather nearer the river,” suggested Michael. “Are you still in Trelawny Road?”
“Yes, still in the same old hovel. My hat! Talking of Trelawny Road, it is a small world. Who do you think I saw last week?”
“Not Lily Haden?” Michael asked, in spite of a wish not to rise so quickly to Drake’s hook.
“You’re right. I saw the fair Lily. But where do you think I saw her? Bangs, old boy, I tell you I’m not a fellow who’s easily surprised. But this knocked me. Of course, you’ll understand the Hadens flitted from Trelawny Road soon after you stopped calling. So who knows what’s happened since? I give you three guesses where I saw her.”
“I hate riddles,” said Michael fretfully.