“I have no intention of disturbing your admirable arrangements, Mr. Dewson. You may rely upon me to meet Mr. Brandon.”
“But ‘My Affaires’ ”——
“Dismiss the idea. It is out of the question.”
“Then what are you doing it for?”
O’Hagan, having examined minutely the visible attractions of La Belle Lotus—so minutely as to make her blush—dropped his glass.
“Your proposal is of such a nature, sir,” he replied calmly, “that no gentleman could decline to accept it.”
“I want to know how we stand,” burst in Brandon, his choler enhanced by the evident inability of the lady to withstand O’Hagan’s frank gaze. “Are you——”
“Am I going to meet you on the French coast, sir?” O’Hagan anticipated. “Emphatically, yes! Rely upon me!”
“That’s good,” rapped Dewson. “We’ll talk about the book, later. When you see eye to eye with me you won’t want to drop it. But you’re game for the little passage of arms? That’s the talk! Well, talking’s dry work. What about——”
“Excuse me.” O’Hagan raised his hand. “Pray excuse me!”