CHAPTER XI
THE EXPLANATION
There was nothing hurried in his entrance, nothing startling; but yet a sudden silence fell.
Out of it almost immediately came Bertrand's voice. "Ah, Mr. Mordaunt, you return to find a visitor. Miss—Wyndham is here. She came to seek you, but she found only—" he spread out his hands characteristically—"the organ-grinder."
He had risen with the words; so also had Chris. She went forward, but without her usual impetuosity.
"I have found an old friend, Trevor," she said, speaking quickly, as if embarrassed. "I have known Mr.—Mr.—what did you say your name was?" turning towards him again.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I am called Bertrand, mademoiselle."
She smiled in her quick way. "I have known—Bertrand—for years. At least, we used to know each other years ago, and—and we knew each other again the moment we met. It was a great surprise to me—to us both."
"And a great pleasure," said Bertrand, with a bow.
"An immense pleasure," said Chris, with enthusiasm.