"Good heavens, Tan! what do you mean?"
"Well, I had to say something that would be regarded as a sufficient excuse for breaking a luncheon engagement of three weeks' standing. Quite a lot of people were invited to meet me."
"I'm awfully sorry," began Bowen apologetically.
"Oh, it's all right!" was the reply as the car jumped forward. "I shall be deluged with fruit and flowers now from all sorts of people, because the Bolsovers are sure to spread it round that I'm in extremis. To-morrow, however, I shall announce that it was a wrong diagnosis."
Lady Tanagra drew the car up to the curb outside Dent's. "I think," she said, indicating an old woman selling matches, "we'll give her the shilling for the taxi, Peter, shall we?"
Peter beckoned the old woman and handed her a shilling with a smile.
"Does it make you feel particularly virtuous to be charitable with another's money?" he enquired.
Lady Tanagra made a grimace.
Over lunch they talked upon general topics and about common friends. Lady Tanagra made no reference to the important matter that had caused her to be summoned to lunch, even at the expense of having measles as an excuse. That was characteristic of her. She had nothing of a woman's curiosity, at least she never showed it, particularly with Peter.
After lunch they went to the lounge for coffee. When they had been served and both were smoking, Bowen remarked casually, "Got any engagement for this afternoon, Tan?"