She nodded.
"It is a fine sort of ruin, after all. Not to trust is generally proof of a mean and doubting disposition."
"You are probably right, madame," he agreed. "Is it permitted to remind you that we have been together for some time and you have not yet enlightened me as to your reasons for seeking my acquaintance?"
"Can't you believe that it was a whim?" she asked.
"No!"
"Remember that I saw you when you were here before," she persisted.
"I have no recollection of having met you."
"Yet I can tell you nearly all that you did on that last visit of yours. You dined one night at the Embassy, one night at the Travelers' Club with a party of four, one night with the Minister—Courcelles. You were two hours with him on the afternoon of the day you dined with him. You managed to snatch an hour at the races and to lunch at the Pré Catelan on your way. You lunched, I believe, with Monsieur le Duc de St. Simon and his friends."
"Your knowledge of my movements," he declared, "is very flattering. It suggests an interest in me, I admit, but I have yet to be convinced that that interest is in any way personal."
She looked at him from under the lids of her eyes.