“This is the first time in five years. I came here to-night because I wanted to be alone, because I did not wish to meet any one I knew. I have scowled at every girl in the room, and they have wisely left me alone. I haven’t scowled at you because I do not know what to make of you. That’s frankness. Now, you answer my question.”
“Would you spare me a glass of wine? I am thirsty.”
He struck his hands together, a bit of orientalism he had brought back with him. The observant waiter instantly came forward with a glass.
The young woman sipped the wine, gazing into the glass as she did so. “Perhaps a whim brought me here. But I repeat, Monsieur is lonely.”
“So lonely that I am almost tempted to put you into a taxicab and run away with you.”
She set down the glass.
“But I sha’n’t,” he added.
The spark of eagerness in her eyes was instantly curtained. “There is a woman?” tentatively.
“Is there not always a woman?”
“And she has disappointed Monsieur?” There was no marked sympathy in the tone.