“He has not published another, then?” queried General Carden carelessly. Double-faced that he was, he knew perfectly well that no second book had appeared as yet. Had he not advised Mudie’s—naturally not in Mrs. Cresswell’s [Pg 142]presence—to supply him with a copy the moment one appeared?
“No,” replied Anne. And she stopped. Had not Robin Adair himself told her that his Wanderer had escaped him, and Heaven knew whether he would ever again be caught, chained, fettered, and imprisoned in the pages and between the covers of a book?
Later in the evening General Carden, taking his departure, said to Anne, “I should like to have the honour of calling on you, if you will allow me to do so.”
And Anne replied: “I should be quite delighted. I am staying now with Mrs. Lancing, and go down to the country in a few days, but I shall return to town to my own house in the autumn.”
“In the autumn, then,” said General Carden, bowing over her hand.
CHAPTER XV
CONFIDENCES
Muriel Lancing, having partaken of breakfast in her own room, was now lying in luxurious and dainty négligé among a pile of extremely snowy pillows. Anne, who had breakfasted in the dining-room some half hour previously, was sitting by the open window talking to her.
“Anne,” said Muriel suddenly, glancing at her from beneath lowered eyelashes, “I believe I owe you a confession and an apology.”