Laurie found the girl standing by the table, ready for the street, her coat fastened, her gloves buttoned.
"Oh, how could you!" she gasped. "What did he say?"
Laurie summoned the waiter with a gesture and asked for his account.
"Sit down a minute," he suggested, "and tell me who he is."
"Not here," she urged. "I couldn't breathe here. Hurry, please. Let us get away!"
She was so obviously in earnest that he yielded. He paid the bill, which the waiter had ready, accepted that appreciative servitor's help with his overcoat, and escorted his guest from the room.
"But, for heaven's sake, don't run!" he laughed. "Do you want the creature to think we're flying before him?"
She flushed and moderated her pace. Side by side, and quite deliberately, they left the restaurant, while the stranger watched them with his dull, fixed gaze. He seemed to have recovered his temper, but it was also plain that the little encounter had given him something to think about. When he resumed his luncheon he ate slowly and with an air of deep abstraction, as if working out some grave problem.
"What's his name?" asked Laurie, as he helped Miss Mayo into a waiting taxicab.
She looked startled. Indeed, his most casual questions seemed to startle her and put her, in a way, on her guard.