and Patrick hobbled out.
"I didn't know it was you," he said, and flushed.
"I wanted to try your pet divination scheme again," said Ben. "May I?"
"Of course," said Patrick.
"I will just fumble for a book," said Ben.
She closed her eyes, approached the shelves and took down a volume. Then she opened it, read a few words, and smiled.
"Was it all right?" Patrick asked.
"I think so," she said, and was about to run up the stairs, but stopped. "Oh, by the way, Mr. St. Quentin," she said, "I've got a client coming to-day to talk about a memorial to her son: something philanthropic and costly. If I were to ask you to come up and join us, could you—would you?"
"With the greatest pleasure," said Patrick, "especially as there's a catalogue due and I ought to be at work on it. But neglecting work is so agreeable."
"Soon after three," said Ben, and ascended to her own domain.