Annabel’s hand stole into his.
“And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured.
“For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. “I wouldn’t have been without this trip for worlds. It has been a real honeymoon trip, Annabel, for I feel that it has given me a wife.”
Annabel pulled up her veil.
“You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. “I do hope that I shall be able to make it up to you.”
Sir John’s reply was incoherent. He called a waiter.
“Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me.”
The stranger came over to them smiling. He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed.
“I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. If I might take the liberty, Sir John,” he added, with a humorous gleam in his eyes, “I should like to congratulate you upon your tie.”
“Oh, damn the thing!” Sir John exclaimed, tucking the loose ends inside his coat.