“No,” she admitted, “they have not had much time. I wonder—” She hesitated for a moment and did not conclude her sentence. “Come,” she exclaimed, with a little shiver, “let us go back to your office! This place is not cheerful. All the time I think of that poor man. It does make me frightened.”
Laverick escorted his visitor back to the electric brougham which was waiting before his door.
“A list of stocks purchased on your behalf will reach you by to-night’s post,” he promised her. “We shall do our best in your interests.”
He held out his hand, but she seemed in no hurry to let him go.
“You are very kind, Mr. Laverick. I would like to see you again very soon. You have heard me sing in Samson and Delilah?”
“Not yet, but I am hoping to very shortly.”
“To-night,” she declared, “you must come to the Opera House. I leave a box for you at the door. Send me round a note that you are there, and it is possible that I may see you. It is against the rules, but for me there are no rules.”
Laverick hesitating, she leaned forward and looked into his face.
“You are doing something else?” she protested. “You were, perhaps, thinking of taking out again the little girl with whom you were sitting last night?”
“I had half promised—”