“Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. “I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny little note but no address. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. But I waited in vain. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. . “No, I am alone,” she answered.
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