"I think," she said, "that this time you had better come and fetch them, Mr. Grimm, or, better still—send Mr. Aaron Rodd."
"Or me," the poet suggested.
She shook her head.
"It is to be Mr. Aaron Rodd," she decided. "You will not be afraid?" she added, turning towards him with a little smile at the corners of her lips.
"Where am I to come to, and when?" he enquired.
She glanced at her brother, then back again towards her neighbour.
"I shall tell you presently," she whispered.
The little party broke up shortly afterwards. The hall outside, where they lingered to make their adieux, was unusually crowded. Harvey Grimm felt a touch upon his elbow.
"A pleasant luncheon, I trust?"
He frowned as he recognised Brodie, who was apparently waiting for a friend. It was exactly the meeting which he had desired to avoid. He greeted him, however, with his customary geniality.