'You see, we are neighbours almost,' she explained. 'I have an apartment here when I am in London. I thought I would call in and see you on the way to my room. But, please—do you mind?'
She pushed him gently away from her. For a moment his face darkened. Then, with a shrug of the shoulders, he threw himself into the easy-chair opposite, a shapeless, ill-dressed little morsel of humanity, with a queer intelligence shining out of his narrowed eyes, suggested, too, in the square forehead and puckered brows.
'Listen, young lady,' he said. 'Do you know why I asked you to come and see me?'
She raised her eyebrows and laughed at him.
'Because you like me, I hope,' she replied. 'For myself, I love making fresh acquaintances amongst clever men.'
'Acquaintances?' he repeated slowly.
She nodded several times.
'I am not one of those,' she said, 'who can gather the whole world in without a pause. I like to make acquaintances. Sometimes an acquaintance may become a friend. Sometimes—but that takes time.'
She felt the steely light of his eyes upon her and looked modestly down upon the carpet.
'Well,' he went on, 'there were two reasons why I sent for you. One I think you have surmised, and you keep it there at the back of your pretty little head. The other—well, you are a young person of intelligence and mixed nationality. I thought it possible that you might be of use to me.'