“An accident! I shouldn’t call it exactly that! Who was this man with whom a tête-à-tête was so necessary that you couldn’t wait until to-morrow?”
“It was the Marchese Torrigiani, since you ask. I would have told you before if your torrential abuse had permitted.” She replied quietly.
“But I thought he was in Italy!”
“So he will be in another week. He is sailing to-morrow.” The regret in her tone angered Alexis.
“But what is he doing in New York again? Or has he been here all the time?” He inquired with quick suspicion.
“I am not in the habit of lying, Alexis.”
Her composure frightened him. He threw out his arms in a beseeching gesture.
“Have pity on me, Anne. I don’t mean to hurt you. But I’m so unhappy!”
The cold light died out of her eyes.
“There’s nothing to be so miserable about, Alexis. Torrigiani has been in Mexico all this time. He merely stopped on his way back to Italy. He hadn’t even let me know that he was here. He happened to be passing by Carnegie Hall to-night and saw the notices of your concert. Our meeting was entirely accidental, and nothing to torture yourself about. As it seemed to be our only chance for a talk, I drove him around the park and left him at his hotel.”