“I wish,” she said, “that I could understand what in this world you are trying to evolve from those rubbishy papers.”
He laughed.
“Some day,” he said, “I will tell you. At present you would not understand. Be patient a little longer.”
“It has been long enough,” she exclaimed. “I have had seven months of it.”
“And I,” he answered, “seven years. Take care of yourself and remember, I shall want you in a week.”
CHAPTER XI
THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD
At precisely the hour agreed upon Harcutt and Densham met in one of the ante-rooms leading into the “Milan” restaurant. They surrendered their coats and hats to an attendant, and strolled about waiting for Wolfenden. A quarter of an hour passed. The stream of people from the theatres began to grow thinner. Still, Wolfenden did not come. Harcutt took out his watch.