"I know.… Well, you oughtn't to have come to my rooms last night. And you oughtn't to have come to-day, though that wasn't as bad.… What d'you imagine people like Grierson or Manders think? What d'you imagine Mabel Elstree thinks, when you sit with your head against my knee?"
She withdrew her arm and walked for some time without speaking.
"I'm sorry if I'm compromising you with your friends," she said at length.
"And whether you compromise yourself doesn't matter?"
"I suppose I'm used to it," she sighed; then, with one of her April changes, the sigh turned into a provocative laugh. "If you don't mind being compromised by me, I'd make you write a wonderful play. My technique's so good. All you have to do is to fall in love with me——"
"I shan't have the opportunity," he interrupted. "We meet to-night at Mrs. Shelley's——"
"And we were so positive that we weren't going!" she murmured. "You don't want to see me again?"
Eric hailed a passing taxi.
"I like meeting you," he told her frankly enough. "You amuse me—and you interest me enormously. But I've work to do … for one thing.…"
She seated herself in the taxi and held out her hand through the window.