"I will go with you certainly, if you wish it," Paul answered, not too cordially, for he did not wish his brother to know that it was what he had already planned to do. "Did she tell you that we had already a slight acquaintance?"
"Yes! You rode home in a cab together from Lady Swindon's, didn't you? There was only one, and it was raining, so you shared it. Adrea told me that."
Paul nodded. He meant, after he had seen Adrea, to consider whether it would not be best to tell his brother everything. But, for the present, her story was enough. They turned into Pall Mall, and, almost immediately, Arthur's hat was in his hand, and he was on the edge of the pavement, colouring with pleasure. A small victoria had pulled up by the side, and Paul found himself face to face with Adrea.
She was muffled up in rich brown furs, and almost invisible, but her dark eyes flashed into his from underneath her thick veil. After the first greeting she scarcely noticed Arthur; it was Paul upon whom her eyes were bent.
"You are in London again, then, Mr. de Vaux," she remarked. "Have you discovered that, after all, the country is a little triste in this land of damp and fogs—the country in November, I mean—or is it only important business which has brought you up!"
"The latter," he answered, "as it happens. I am glad to see that the damp and fogs which you complain of have not affected your health."
"I am quite well, thanks," she answered. "How long are you staying in town?"
"For less than a week, I think."
"Well, it is too cold to talk here. Will you come and let me give you some tea this afternoon, after the fashion of you strange islanders? I want you to, please."