"I am sorry I said that, Mr. Schmidt," she cried, contrite at once. "There is absolutely no reason why I should not be seen with you. But won't you be appeased when I say that I wanted to be with you alone to-day?"
He suddenly remembered the Baron's shrewd conjecture and let the opportunity to say something banal go by without a word. Perhaps it was a test, after all. He merely replied that she was paying him a greater compliment than he deserved.
"There are many things I want to speak about, Mr. Schmidt, and—and you know how impossible it is to—to get a moment to one's self when one is being watched like a child, as I am being watched over by dear Mrs. Gaston. She is my shield and armour, my lovely one-headed dragon. I placed myself in her care and—well, she is a very dependable person. You will understand, won't you?"
"Pray do not distress yourself, Miss Guile," he protested. "The last word is spoken. I am too happy to spoil the day by doubting its integrity. Besides, I believe I know you better than you think I do."
He expected her to reveal some sign of dismay, but she was suddenly on guard.
"Then you will not mind my eccentricities," she said calmly, "and we shall have a very nice drive, some tea and a—lark in place of the more delectable birds prescribed by the chef at the Pavilion Bleu."
As the car turned into the Boulevard des Capucines Robin suppressed an exclamation of annoyance on beholding Baron Gourou and Dank standing on the curb almost within arm's length of the car as it passed. The former was peering rather intently at the two men on the front seat, and evinced little or no interest in the occupants of the tonneau.
"Wasn't that your friend Mr. Dank?" inquired Miss Guile with interest. He felt that she was chiding him.
"Yes," said he, and then turned for another look at his compatriots. Gourou was jotting something down on his cuff-band. The Prince mentally promised him something for his pains. "But let us leave dull care behind," he went on gaily.
"He isn't at all dull," said she.