"Yes, very lonely. How little men know women. Because a number of silly, chattering people have been here when you have called, you have imagined that my life has been full of pleasure, that I have been content. But I haven't a friend in the world, unless——" She lifted her great languishing eyes to his for a moment, and sighed.
"Unless what?" asked Dick.
"Nothing, nothing. Why should you care about the loneliness of a woman?"
"I care a great deal," replied Dick. "You have been very kind to me—a lonely man."
From that moment she became very charming. His words gave her the opening she sought, and a few minutes later she had led him to the channel of conversation which she desired.
"You do not mind?" she said presently. "I know you are the kind of man who finds it a bore to take a woman out to dinner. But there will be a wonderful band at The Moscow, and I love music."
"It will be a pleasure, a very great pleasure," replied Dick.
"And you will not miss being away from the House of Commons for a few hours, will you? I will try to be very nice."
"As though you needed to try," cried Dick. "As though you could be anything else."
She looked half coyly, half boldly into his eyes.