'Will a million dollars,' he asked, 'buy me back my pocket-book?'
Lavendale drew it from his pocket and promptly handed it across.
'My dear Mr. Kessner,' he remonstrated, 'you are surely not serious! Miss de Freyne was just explaining her little escapade to me and I was coming in search of you.'
Mr. Kessner took no notice of either of them for several moments. He ran through the contents of the pocket-book, then he slowly thrust it into his pocket.
'I shall have the pleasure,' he said, 'on Friday night? You will not forget—the Ritz at eight o'clock?'
'Charmed,' Lavendale murmured.
'Delighted,' Suzanne faltered.
He made a little bow—an ugly, awkward bow—and left the room. There was nothing in his manner to indicate what his sensations were. Lavendale and Suzanne looked at one another.
'Was there anything very important there?' she asked.
He laughed.