"Have you a home there, too?"
"Well, not exactly a home, but a very pleasant little lodging."
"Ah, an apartment."
"No, I detest apartments. One always feels as if the hall servants were spying on your comings and goings."
"You stay at your club then?"
"No, clubs are all very well in their way, but I'm not a clubby person. I like to spread about among my own things. In a club too, the servants are always under your feet. In New York I like to get away from servants altogether. I am not so dependent on them as you seem to think."
Pen's heart began to beat a little thickly. "And have you such a place?" she asked with interest. Apparently they were back just where they had been before the violent scene of the previous night.
"Yes."
"Do tell me about it."
"It's a quaint little house in an unfashionable neighborhood. It stands in the name of my valet. The beauty of it is none of my neighbors know me and I can go and come as I please. It's a petit maison in the French style, a little entresol below, overhead three tall windows lighting the salon, then a receding attic, and that's all. I don't suppose there's another house like it in town."