I ignored this last remark.
“How did you know Miss Pendennis had left?” I asked, with assumed carelessness.
“Why? Because I met her at Ostend on Sunday night, to be sure. I week-ended there, you know. Thought I’d have a private bit of a spree, before I had to be officially on the Spree.”
He chuckled at the futile pun.
“You saw Anne Pendennis at Ostend. Are you certain it was she?” I demanded.
“Of course I am. She looked awfully fetching, and gave me one of her most gracious bows—”
“You didn’t speak to her?” I pursued, throwing away the cigarette I had been smoking. My teeth had met in the end of it as I listened to this news.
My ingenuous companion seemed embarrassed by the question.
“Well, no; though I’d have liked to. But—fact is, I—well, of course, I wasn’t alone, don’t you know; and though she was a jolly little girl—she—I couldn’t very well have introduced her to Miss Pendennis. Anyhow, I shouldn’t have had the cheek to speak to her; she was with an awfully swagger set. Count Loris Solovieff was one of ’em. He’s really the Grand Duke Loris, you know, though he prefers to go about incog. more often than not. He was talking to Miss Pendennis. Here’s the office. I won’t come in. Perhaps I’ll turn up and see you off to-night. If I don’t, good-bye and good luck; and thanks awfully for the lunch.”