For the moment they were alone, and she glanced at the watch on her wrist.
"Have you made any plans?" she inquired, and her voice was low, yet sufficiently composed.
"For the future?"
"Yes."
"When Marcelle arrives, I am going to my hotel for some baggage. You, I suggest, are going to bed."
"You will return?"
"Within the hour—if I am alive."
"And to-morrow?"
"To-morrow, may it please your ladyship, we breakfast together at nine o'clock."
"Your plan, then, is mainly composed of eating and sleeping?"