"Upon what?" Browne inquired. "What have I done now that the world should desire to wish me well?"
"I refer to your approaching marriage," said Maas. "Deauville was in here the other day, en route to Cannes, and he told us that it was stated in a London paper that you were about to be married. I told him I felt sure he must be mistaken. If you had been I should probably have known it."
"It's not true," said Browne angrily. "Deauville should know better than to attach any credence to such a story."
"Exactly what I told him," said Maas, with his usual imperturbability. "I said that, at his age, he should know better than to believe every silly rumour he sees in the press. I assured him that you were worth a good many married men yet."
As he said this Maas watched Browne's face carefully. What he saw there must have satisfied him on certain points upon which he was anxious for information, for he smiled a trifle sardonically, and immediately changed the conversation by inquiring what Browne intended doing that night.
"Going home to bed," said Browne promptly. "I have had a long day's travelling, and I've a lot to do to-morrow. I think, if you'll excuse me, old chap, I'll wish you good-night now."
"Good-night," said Maas, taking his hand. "When shall I see you again? By the way, I hope, if it's any convenience to you, you'll let me put my rooms at your disposal. But there, I forgot you have your own magnificent palace to go to. To offer you hospitality would be superfluous."
"You talk of my house as if I should be likely to go there," said Browne scornfully. "You know as well as I do that I never enter the doors. What should I do in a caravanserai like that? No; I am staying at the usual place in the Place Vendôme. Now, good-night once more."
"Good-night," said Maas, and Browne accordingly left the room. When the swingdoors had closed behind him Maas went back to his chair and lit another cigarette.
"Our friend Browne is bent upon making a fool of himself," he said to his cigarette; "and, what is worse, he will put me to a lot of trouble and inconvenience. At this stage of the proceedings, however, it would be worse than useless to endeavour to check him. He has got the bit between his teeth, and would bolt right out if I were to try to bring him to a standstill. The only thing that can be done, as far as I can see, is to sit still and watch the comedy, and step in like the god out of the machine, when all is ready."