"Really, Sir John," she said, "I don't know how to thank you. I can understand now these newspapers when they talk of your magnificent philanthropy. It is magnificent indeed. And yet--you millionaires should really, I think, cultivate the art of discrimination. I am so much obliged to you for your projected benevolence. Frankly, it is the funniest thing which has ever happened to me in my life. I shall like to think of it--whenever I feel dull. Good-bye, Anna!" Annabel sprang up. Sir John waved her back. "Do I understand you then to refuse my offer?" he asked Anna. She shot a sudden glance at him. Sir John felt hot and furious. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places--that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. Anna went out. * * * * * Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. "I won't pretend," he said, "that this is an accident. The fates are never so kind to me. As a matter of fact I have been waiting for you." She raised her eyebrows. "Really," she said. "And by what right do you do anything of the sort?" "No right at all," he admitted. "Only it is much too late for you to be out alone. You have been to see your sister, of course. How is she?" "My sister is quite well, thank you," she answered. "Would you mind calling that hansom for me?" He looked at it critically and shook his head. "You really couldn't ride in it," he said, deprecatingly. "The horse's knees are broken, and I am not sure that the man is sober. I would sooner see you in a 'bus again." She laughed. "Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?" "I am afraid that I must confess it," he answered. "Idiotic, isn't it?" "Absolutely," she agreed coldly. "I wish you would not do it." "Would not do what?" "Well, follow buses from Russell Square to Hampstead." "I can assure you," he answered, "that it isn't a habit of mine. But seriously----" "Well seriously?" "Isn't it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you." "Why should I? I have told you that I do not wish for acquaintances in London." "Perhaps not in a general way," he answered calmly. "You are quite right, I think. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. I am an old friend, and I declined to be shelved." "Would you mind telling me," Anna asked, "how long I knew you in Paris?" He looked at her sideways. There was nothing to be learned from her face.