Mr. Sabin smiled grimly as he poured himself out a liqueur and lit a cigarette. He was perfectly well aware that Wolfenden’s visit was not one of courtesy; a single glance into his face had told him all that he cared to know. It was fortunate that Helène had been in the room. Every moment’s respite he gained was precious.
“Have you come to ask me to go for a drive in that wonderful vehicle?” she said lightly, pointing out of the window to where his dogcart was waiting. “I should want a step-ladder to mount it!”
Wolfenden answered her gravely.
“I should feel very honoured at being allowed to take you for a drive at any time,” he said, “only I think that I would rather bring a more comfortable carriage.”
She shrugged her shoulders, and looked at him significantly.
“The one you were driving yesterday?”
He bit his lip and frowned with vexation, yet on the whole, perhaps, he did not regret her allusion. It was proof that she had not taken the affair too seriously.
“The one I was driving yesterday would be a great deal more comfortable,” he said; “to-day I only thought of getting here quickly. I have a little business with Mr. Sabin.”
“Is that a hint for me to go?” she asked. “You are not agreeable this morning! What possible business can you have with my uncle which does not include me? I am not inclined to go away; I shall stay and listen.”