"I have just arrived from Braster," I answered. "I came here by accident to get something to eat. Is that—"
I could not go on, but she finished the sentence for me.
"Yes!"
I set my teeth hard and looked steadily down at the tablecloth. I felt rather than saw that her regard was compassionate.
"I am sorry," she murmured. "I would not have brought him here if I had known. You two are better apart. Talk to me as naturally as you can. He has no idea who you are."
"Has he been ill?" I asked.
"Very. I found him in a hospital. He has been ill, and the rest you can guess."
Even while we were talking I saw him toss off another glass of brandy which the waiter had brought him. And all the time his eyes never left my face.
"I thought," I said, "that he had money."
"It has all gone," she answered, "and—well, things are not very flourishing with him. Our mission over here has been unsuccessful, and they have stopped sending us money from Paris. How queer that I should be telling you this!" she added, with a hard little laugh, "you, of all people in the world. Guy, take my advice. Get up and go. If he guesses who you are he will come and speak to you—and you are better apart."