Tarr rose.
“I wish I hadn’t come to see you, Lowndes. Your answer is disappointing.”
Lowndes got up, disturbed at Tarr’s sign of departure.
“I’m sorry. But I’m not an authority.” He leant against the fireplace to arrest Tarr’s withdrawal for a minute or two. “Are you doing much work?”
“I? No.”
“Are you ever in in the afternoons? I should like to come round some day⸺”
“I’m just moving into a new studio.”
Lowndes looked suddenly at his watch, with calculated, ape-like impulsiveness.
“Where are you having lunch? I thought of going down to Lejeune’s to see if I could come across a beggar of the name of Kreisler. He could tell you much more about German women than I can. He’s a German. Come along, won’t you? Are you doing anything?”
“No, I know quite enough Germans. Besides, I must go somewhere—I can’t have lunch just yet. Good-bye. Thank you for your opinion.”