“I don’t think that’s a very good joke,” said Sylvia, solemnly.
“It wasn’t, and to make my penitence, if you’ll let me, I’ll visit you at Earl’s Court and present you with copies of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and through The Looking-glass.”
“Books,” said Sylvia, in a satisfied tone. “All right. When will you come? To-morrow?”
The stranger nodded.
“What are you?” Sylvia asked, abruptly.
“My name is Iredale—Philip Iredale. No profession.”
“Are you what’s called a gentleman?” Sylvia went on.
“I hope most people would so describe me,” said Mr. Iredale.
“I asked you that,” Sylvia said, “because I never met a gentleman before. I don’t think Jimmy Monkley was a gentleman, and Arthur Madden was too young. Perhaps the Emperor of Byzantium was a gentleman.”
“I hope so indeed,” said Mr. Iredale. “The Palaeologos family is an old one. Did you meet the Emperor in the course of your Oriental studies? Shall I meet him in the Hall of a Thousand and One Marvels?”