“Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me.”
He shrugged his shoulders. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. There were so many things about her which he could not understand. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully.
“I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. “This is a charming place, and I have enjoyed the rest.”
“It was a delightful piece of good fortune that I should have met you,” he answered. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then.”
“I am afraid,” she said, preceding him down the narrow stairs, “that I am going to be too busy to have much time for gadding about. However, I daresay that we shall come across one another before long.”
“That is provokingly indefinite,” he answered, a little ruefully. “Won’t you give me your address?”
She shook her head.
“It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. “I feel quite sure that Mrs. White would not approve of callers.”
“I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. “I must try the Directory.”
“I wish you good luck,” she answered. “There are a good many Whites in London.”