He was, for a moment, bereft of words. Somehow or other, he had been so certain that she had sent to him to ask for more money, that he had never even considered any other eventuality.
"Take you away," he repeated. "Do you really mean take you back to London, Violet?"
"Just anywhere you like," she replied. "I am sick of this place and of everything. I am weary to death of trying to keep Linda cheerful—you don't realise how depressing it is to be with her; and—and every one seems to have got a little on my nerves. Mr. Draconmeyer," she added, a little defiantly, raising her eyes to his, "has been most kind and delightful, but—somehow I want to get away."
He sat down on the edge of a couch. She seated herself at the further end of it.
"Violet," he said, "you have taken me rather by surprise."
"Well, you don't mind being taken by surprise once in a while, do you?" she asked, a little petulantly. "You know I am capricious—you have told me so often enough. Here is a proof of it. Take me back to London or to Paris, or wherever you like."
He was almost overwhelmed. It was unfortunate that she had chosen that moment to look away and could not see, therefore, the light which glowed in his eyes.
"Violet," he assured her earnestly, "there is nothing in the world I should like so much. I would beg you to have your trunks packed this morning, but unfortunately I cannot leave Monte Carlo just now."
"Cannot leave Monte Carlo?" she repeated derisively. "Why, my dear man, you are a fish out of water here! You don't gamble, you do nothing but moon about and go to the Opera and worry about your silly politics. What on earth do you mean when you say that you cannot leave Monte Carlo?"
"I mean just what I say," he replied. "I cannot leave Monte Carlo for several days, at any rate."