Mrs. Beecher Monmouth looked at him, then at the case, and came quickly to her feet.
"Oh, yes," she exclaimed. She accepted it from his fingers and smiled at him, looking steadily into his eyes. "I am so grateful to you," she said. "I cannot," she lied, "tell how I came to drop it!"
Parkson bowed, and was moving towards the door.
"Not at all," he murmured.
"You know, the servants," went on Mrs. Beecher Monmouth, "are sometimes so dishonest in these hotels."
"Quite so," answered Parkson clumsily. Then he noticed that Mrs. Beecher Monmouth had opened the cigarette-case and was holding it towards him. There were four buff-coloured cigarettes in its interior.
"Won't you give me the pleasure of accepting one of them? I am afraid it is the only reward you will permit me to offer you, Mr.——"
She paused, looking questioningly at him.
"My name is Parkson."
Mrs. Beecher Monmouth uttered a pleased exclamation; her face wreathed itself in smiles. For a devastated widow she looked at that moment particularly light-hearted.