“You go alone into the Bois in the night? Is not that dangerous?”

He could not tell whether she was mocking him. He said:

“It isn’t dangerous in the afternoons, at any rate. Let me take you there.”

She hesitated. Chitta was clattering dishes in the improvised kitchen.

“Perhaps,” said the Lady.

Cartaret’s heart bounded.

“Now?” he asked.

The dishes clattered mightily.

“How prompt you are!” she laughed. “No, not now. I have my lessons.”

“To-morrow, then?”