“That made me laugh.
“‘I am not busy,’ I told her.
“‘Oh, then perhaps I could speak to you for a few minutes? somewhere just quietly, and alone?’
“I glanced round. The porter was standing there with a face carved in stone.
“‘You can’t come in here,’ I said. ‘Where can I take you? Will you come to an hotel?’
“‘Oh, no!’ she said, shrinking, and I noticed her little gray cotton gloves.
“‘At any rate, let us get away from here. Then we can think where to go.’
“We went down the steps, across Piccadilly, and passed into the Green Park. There I stopped, but she would not sit on the chair I suggested. She stood before me, her eyes downcast, and her gloved fingers twisting the stems of her roses. I bethought myself to ask her,—
“‘How on earth did you find me, to-day of all days?’
“‘I came to ask,’ she answered, still in that shy, hurried tone, ‘whether they knew when you would be coming to London.’