But Winter, too, might have indulged in the same reflection: "How limited the consciousness of Janoc! He doesn't know where I am passing to—to visit and question his sister Pauline!"
Winter, a little further on, took a taxicab to Porchester Gardens, got out at the bottom of the street, and was walking on to Mrs. Marsh's temporary residence, when he saw Furneaux coming the opposite way.
Winter wished to pretend not to see him, but Furneaux spoke.
"Well, Providence throws us together somehow!"
"Ah! Why blame Providence?" said Winter, with rather a snarl.
"Not two hours ago there was our chance meeting by that graveside——"
The "chance" irritated Winter to the quick.
"You have all the faults of the French nature," he said bitterly, "without any of its merits: its levity without its industry, its pettiness without its minuteness——"
"And you the English frankness without its honesty. The chief thing about a Frenchman is his intelligence. At least you do not deny that I am intelligent?"
"I have thought you intelligent. I am damned if I think you so any longer."