"What's the business?" asked Eddy, taking out a cigarette.
"I'll tell you to-morrow. Go away now."
"And you'll give me the fiver to-morrow?"
"I'll give you ten pounds."
"Oh, I say, that deserves a kiss. Do remove that beastly yashmak and let me kiss you!"
Madame Coralie pushed him back violently. "Certainly not. I have no time for frivolity. Go away."
The young man looked astonished. "You always liked being kissed before," he remarked sulkily. "Are you going back to Lady Branwin?"
"No. She has had some supper, and will now sleep. I must attend to the paste for her complexion. Zobeide? Go away, Eddy. It's getting late."
"Five minutes after eight," said the young man, and sauntered out of the door. "I'll turn up to-morrow before midday. Good-bye."
Madame Coralie nodded wearily, and stared at the clock on the mantelpiece in a vague way. "Five minutes past eight," she murmured; "well, I thought--"