“It would have made no difference,” she interrupted dolefully. “Now I come to think of it, the Margaret whom I used to know—and there must be plenty of her left yet—is just the right type of woman for you.”
They drew up outside the house in Grosvenor Square. Lady Cynthia held out her hand.
“Come and see me one afternoon, will you?” she invited.
“I'd like to very much,” he replied.
She lingered on the steps and waved her hand to him—a graceful, somewhat insolent gesture.
“All the same, I think I shall do my best to make you forget Margaret,” she called out. “Thanks for the lift up. A bientôt!”
CHAPTER XX
Francis drove direct from Grosvenor Square to his chambers in the Temple, and found Shopland, his friend from Scotland Yard, awaiting his arrival.
“Any news?” Francis enquired.