"It is on the contrary," she declared. "You do not lose your heads or your hearts very easily, you Englishmen."
"You do not know us," he protested.
"I know you," she answered. "For myself, I admit it. When I am with a man who is nice, I try that I may make him, just a little, no more, but just a little in love with me. It makes things more amusing. It is better for him, and we are not bored. But with you, mon ami, I know very well that I waste my time. And so, I ask you instead this question. Tell me why you have invited me to take luncheon with you."
She flashed her question across at him carelessly enough, but he felt that she expected an answer, and that she was not to be deceived.
"I wanted Miss Fitzmaurice's address," he said.
"Naturally. But what else?"
He sighed.
"I want to know more than you will tell me, I am afraid," he said. "I want to know why you and Miss Fitzmaurice are living together in London and leading such an unusual life, and how in Heaven's name you became concerned in the affairs of Morris Barnes."
"Ah!" she said. "You want to know that? So!"
"I do," he admitted.