"I would rather go alone," she said. "If you will pay my cab, I will bring the packet straight back."
Wrayson and Barnes waited in the former's flat. Barnes drank two brandy and sodas, and walked restlessly up and down the room. Wrayson was busy at the telephone, and carried on a conversation for some moments in French. Directly he had finished, Barnes turned upon him.
"Whom were you talking to?" he demanded.
"A friend of yours," he answered. "I have asked her to come round for a few minutes."
"A friend of mine?"
"The Baroness!"
The colour burned once more in his cheeks. He looked down at his attire with dissatisfaction.
"I didn't want to see her again just yet," he muttered. Wrayson smiled.
"She won't look at your clothes," he remarked, "and I rather want her here."
Barnes was suddenly suspicious.