“Madame Brandt,” said I, “old friends have doubtless much to talk over. I thank you for the privilege you have afforded me of making your acquaintance.”
She rose and accompanied us to the landing outside the flat door. After saying good-bye to Dale, who went down with his boyish tread, she detained me for a second or two, holding my hand, and again her clasp enveloped it like some clinging sea-plant. She looked at me very wistfully.
“The next time you come, Mr. de Gex, do come as a friend and not as an enemy.”
I was startled. I thought I had conducted the interview with peculiar suavity.
“An enemy, dear lady?”
“Yes. Can't I see it?” she said in her languorous, caressing voice. “And I should love to have you for a friend. You could be such a good one. I have so few.”
“I must argue this out with you another time,” said I diplomatically.
“That's a promise,” said Lola Brandt.
“What's a promise?” asked Dale, when I joined him in the hall.
“That I will do myself the pleasure of calling on Madame again.”