"There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment," she told herself, "and that is how to pay my next week's bill to Mrs. White. It ought not to be much. I have gone without dinner for three nights, and--come in." Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. "Is this a concession to Mrs. White?" she asked, laughing. "How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner." "Not exactly," he answered nervously. "Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and--Brendon and I--we were afraid that you might be unwell." "Never better in my life," Anna declared briskly. "I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner." She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch--tea and roll at a cheap café. Sydney was watching her eagerly. "I'm glad you're all right," he said, "because we want you to do us a favour. Brendon's had an awful stroke of luck." "I'm delighted," she exclaimed. "Do tell me all about it." "He only heard this afternoon," Sydney continued. "An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. A lawyer has come all the way from America about it. We want to celebrate, and we want you to help us. Brendon suggests supper at the Carlton. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. We thought of starting in half an hour's time, and trying for a theatre somewhere on the way." "How delightful!" exclaimed Anna. "I should love to come. It is very sweet of you to have waited for me. Run away now, please. I must see if I have a gown fit to wear." * * * * * "This," Anna declared, as she sipped her wine and looked around her, "reminds me more of Paris than any place I have yet seen. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations." "And the people?" Brendon asked. "What do you think of them?" Anna extended her critical survey and shrugged her shoulders. "What can one say?" she exclaimed. "Did you ever see women so weary-looking and so dowdy? They do not talk. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour's dresses through those hateful glasses. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind." Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill before Anna. The foremost, tall, clean-shaven, perfectly groomed, half extended his hand with a smile of recognition. "Miss Pellissier, isn't it?" he said. "Glad to see you in London. No idea that you were here, though." Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition. "My name is certainly Pellissier," she said, "but I am very sorry--I do not recognize you in the least." The tall young man dropped his eye-glass and smiled.