"Sherlock Holmes!" she murmured. "There are other men in the club with whom I lunch—even dine."
Norgate glanced across the room. Baring was playing bridge at a table close at hand, but his attention seemed to be abstracted. He looked often towards where Mrs. Benedek sat. There was a restlessness about his manner scarcely in keeping with the rest of his appearance.
"One misses a great deal," Norgate regretted, "through being only an occasional visitor here."
"As, for instance?"
"The privilege of being one of those fortunate few."
She laughed at him. Her eyes were full of challenge. She leaned a little closer and whispered in his ear: "There is still a vacant place."
"For to-night or to-morrow?" he asked eagerly.
"For to-morrow," she replied. "You may telephone—3702 Mayfair—at ten o'clock."
He scribbled down the number. Then he put his pocket-book away with a sigh.
"I'm afraid you are treating that poor sailor-man badly," he declared.