He shook his head.
“No; they would not be interested in hearing that it was I who spoilt your purposes of study.”
Ada did not reply to this, save by a slight change of countenance. Before he spoke again she saw him take an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat.
“I have something here which belongs to you,” he said, “though it is not addressed. It was written a week ago, but for one or two reasons I delayed putting it in the post. Will you let me be my own postman?”
Ada had just drawn on her second glove, and was preparing to rise. She set her face in hard outlines and remained motionless, her hands on her lap.
“Won’t you save me a penny?” Lacour pleaded with gravity. “Economy is essential with me; I have not concealed the fact.”
Ada’s lips quivered to a smile; she took the letter from where it lay on the table, and moved away without facing him. There was colour on her cheeks.
“Are you going straight to your friends?” Lacour inquired, with some difficulty coming up to her side.
“No; I have some purchases to make. I shall take a cab.”
“I will get you one.”