"This morning."
A little ordinary talk ensued, the tone of which showed a strong desire on the part of Deering to be civil and friendly. Glynn at once determined to accept his advances; he might thus detect some indications of the secret which underlay his acquaintance with Lambert, and the curious influence he seemed to have exercised over him. He could not, however, bring himself to accept his invitation to dinner, though he agreed to dine with him at one of the luxurious cafés which abound in the great capital of pleasure.
Deering talked well, of many things, chiefly political; he also mentioned his wife and home, pressing Glynn to come down to Denham for the twelfth of August, promising him good sport.
It was not till they had risen from table, and were lighting their cigars previous to separating, that Deering made any mention of the subject probably uppermost in both their minds.
"Of course you have not seen anything of Lambert?"
"No, not yet."
"He is a queer fish—a very shady member. I knew him under another name, and rather doubtful circumstances; I am afraid he is not in a very sound financial position; he is a thorough adventurer. It is a bad business for the daughter; she is a very nice creature. I wonder where he picked her up, for one can't believe she really is his daughter?"
"There is not much family likeness between them; certainly; but I see no reason for doubting his representations. He is evidently devoted to her, and his surroundings are perfectly respectable."
"Perfectly. Where did you meet him?"
"In America, many years ago."