“One moment, and I’ll come,” said the woman.
She crossed to Miss Mason. The man waited for her.
“I shan’t be home till midnight,” she said, “and I’m leaving for Italy at an unearthly hour to-morrow morning. But I am sure one day we shall meet again. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” said Miss Mason. “Hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” She longed to say something more, but the words failed her.
She watched her rejoin the man and leave the lounge. It seemed extraordinarily empty after her departure.
“Don’t suppose she’ll ever lack friends,” said Miss Mason to herself, “but if ever she did need one——” She left the rest of the sentence unspoken in her mind, and finding the place a little lonely went up to her own room.
It was not till she was in bed that she realized that she had no idea of the woman’s name. It also never dawned on her to ask the hotel management for it.
CHAPTER IV
THE COURTYARD
DAN Oldfield was standing in front of an easel on which was a minute canvas. The scene depicted thereon was a pastoral of Mesonnier-like detail. At the moment Dan was engaged in painting lilac flowers on a green and white dress. The original dress was on a lay figure before him.