Lady Alicia appeared a little dissatisfied.
“Was that a real address?” she asked, suddenly.
“Perfectly,” he replied; “as real as Pentonville Jail or the House of Commons.” (“And as likely to find me,” he added to himself.)
Lady Alicia seemed to hesitate whether to pursue the subject further, but in the middle of her debate Mr Bunker asked, “By the way, has Lady Grillyer any recollection of having seen me before?”
“No, she doesn’t remember you at all.”
“Then we shall meet as strangers?”
“Yes, I think it would be better; don’t you?”
“It will save our imaginations certainly.”
Lady Alicia looked at him as though she expected something more; but as nothing came, she said, “I think it’s time I went back.”
“For the present then au revoir, my dear Alicia. I beg your pardon, Lady Alicia; it was that rascal Beveridge who made the slip. It now remains to make your formal acquaintance.”