'Yes; but if she is not really the model she pretends to be, how can that hurt her?' Lyon asked.
The inquiry baffled the Colonel an instant—but only an instant. 'Ah, she was in a vicious muddle! As I say, she's off her head.'
They went into the dining-room, where Mrs. Capadose was taking her place. 'It's too bad, it's too horrid!' she said. 'You see the fates are against you. Providence won't let you be so disinterested—painting masterpieces for nothing.'
'Did you see the woman?' Lyon demanded, with something like a sternness that he could not mitigate.
Mrs. Capadose appeared not to perceive it or not to heed it if she did. 'There was a person, not far from your door, whom Clement called my attention to. He told me something about her but we were going the other way.'
'And do you think she did it?'
'How can I tell? If she did she was mad, poor wretch.'
'I should like very much to get hold of her,' said Lyon. This was a false statement, for he had no desire for any further conversation with Miss Geraldine. He had exposed his friends to himself, but he had no desire to expose them to any one else, least of all to themselves.
'Oh, depend upon it she will never show again. You're safe!' the Colonel exclaimed.
'But I remember her address—Mortimer Terrace Mews, Notting Hill.'