“Hallo, Martin!”
Martin turned and met the welcoming eyes of Corinna Hastings, fair-haired, slender, neatly dressed in blue serge coat and skirt and a cheap little hat to which a long pheasant’s feather gave a touch of bravado.
“You’re a real Godsend,” she declared. “I was thinking of throwing myself into the river, only there would have been no one on the deserted bridge to fish me out again. I am the last creature left in Paris.”
“I am more than lucky then to find you, Corinna,” said Martin. “For you’re the only person in Paris that I know.”
“How did you find my address?”
“I went down to Wendlebury——”
“Then you saw them all?” said Corinna, as they took their seats at the window-table. “Father and mother and Bessie and Joan and Ada, etcetera, etcetera down to the new baby. The new baby makes ten of us alive—really he’s the fourteenth. I wonder how many more there are going to be?”
“I shouldn’t think there would be any more,” replied Martin gravely.
Corinna burst out laughing.
“What on earth can you know about it?”