The frightened, hunted look flashed back into her eyes. "No, no," she said quickly. "I had never seen them before in my life. I had just left the flats when they came up and spoke to me. They were both strangers—quite absolutely strangers."
She spoke eagerly, as though specially anxious that her words should carry conviction, but somehow or other Tony felt a little sceptical. He couldn't forget the fierce persistence of the two men, which seemed quite out of keeping with the idea that they had been interrupted in a mere piece of wanton impertinence. Besides, if what she said about them were true it would hardly account for her unreasoning terror that they might have followed her to the restaurant. Being polite by nature, however, he was careful to show no sign of doubting her statement.
He allowed the waiter to help them both to some attractive looking mystery in aspic, and then, when they were again alone, he leaned forward and observed with sympathy:
"Well, I'm glad we happened to roll up at the right time. It's always jolly to give that sort of gentlemen a lesson in manners." He paused. "Have you made any kind of plans about what you are going to do next?"
She shook her head. "I—I haven't quite decided," she said. "I suppose I must find some place to stay at until Miss Watson comes back."
"How long will that be?"
"I don't know. You see she has just gone away and shut up the flat, and left no address."
"Haven't you any other friends in London?"
She shook her head again. "Nobody," she said, "at least nobody who could help me." Then she hesitated. "I have lived in Paris nearly all my life," she added by way of explanation.
There was a brief silence.