She faced me and met my eyes and said shortly: “No.”
“Oh!” said I.
This brought us to the cab. We entered and drove away. Then leaning back and looking straight in front of her, she grasped my wrist and said:
“Now, my dear friend, tell me all and get it over.”
“My dear Madame Brandt—” I began.
She interrupted me. “For goodness' sake don't call me that. It makes a cold shiver run down my back. I'm either Lola to you or nothing.”
“Then, my dear Lola,” said I, “the first thing I must tell you is that I did not send for you.”
“What do you mean? The telegram?”
“It was sent by Anastasius Papadopoulos.”
“Anastasius?” She bent forward and looked at me. “What is he doing here?”