“Then you're just the man I was hoping to meet,” Mr. Cruxhall declared. “Won't you sit down with us right here? I'd like to talk some about that trip. I'm interested in the Syndicate.”
Tavernake shook his head.
“I've had enough of work for a time,” he said. “Besides, I couldn't talk about it till after my report to the meeting to-morrow.”
“Just a few words,” Mr. Cruxhall persisted. “We'll have a bottle of champagne, eh?”
“You will excuse me, I am sure,” Tavernake replied, “when I tell you that it would not be correct on my part to discuss my trip until after I have handed in my report to the company. I am very glad to have seen you again, Mrs. Gardner.”
“But you are not going!” she exclaimed, in dismay.
“I have left Mr. Pritchard alone,” Tavernake answered.
Elizabeth smiled, and waved her hand to the solitary figure.
“Our friend Mr. Pritchard again,” she remarked. “Well, it is really a curious meeting, isn't it? I wonder,”—she lifted her head to his and her eyes called him closer to hers—“have you forgotten everything?”
He pointed over the roofs of the houses. His back was to the river and he pointed westward.