She stood close to him, and her hand fell upon his shoulder.
“You are not going!” she exclaimed. “I have told them that I am at home to no one, and I thought that you would stay and entertain me. Sit down again, Wingrave!”
“Sorry,” he answered, “I have a lot to do this afternoon. I came directly I had your note; but I have had to keep some other people waiting.”
“You are going to see Lady Ruth!”
“Not that I know of,” he declared. “I have heard nothing from her. By the bye, I lost some money to you at bridge the other evening. How much was it? Do you remember?”
She looked at him for a second, and turned away.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked.
“If you please. Put the amount down on a piece of paper, and then I sha’n’t forget it.”
She crossed the room to her desk, and returned with a folded envelope. He stuffed it into his waistcoat pocket.
“I shall be at the opera tonight,” she said. “Will you come there and tell me what—which you decide?”