Mrs. May came forward with a smile.
"So you have managed to elude the Philistines," she said. "Ah, I guessed that you would say nothing to your friends about our little dinner."
There was an eager note in the words that conveyed a half question. Geoffrey smiled.
"May I venture to suggest that the knowledge is not displeasing to you?" he said.
"Well, I admit it. In the circumstances to explain would have been a bore. Your people cannot call on me and, being old-fashioned, they might not care for you to come here alone. Therefore, being a man of the world, you told them nothing about it."
Geoffrey smiled, as he took the proffered cigarette. Had he not been warned against this woman by Ralph, her subtle flattery would have put him off his guard. It is always so sweet and soothing for a youngster to be taken for a man of the world.
"You have guessed it all," he said. "My grandfather is a grand seigneur. He has no toleration for anything that is not en règle. What an exquisite cigarette!"
Mrs. May nodded. They were excellent cigarettes, as also was the liqueur she insisted upon pouring out for Geoffrey with her own hands. He had never tasted anything like it before.
And the dinner when it came was a perfect little poem in its way. Not a flask of wine on the table that had not a history. Long before the meal was over Geoffrey found himself forgetting his caution.
Not that Geoffrey had anything to be afraid of. He knew that in some way this woman was connected with the tragedy of his race; for all that he knew to the contrary, she might be the spirit directing the tragedies.