He pretended to be bored with the play, and persuaded her to come and have an ice at a quiet and respectable place before she saw Rupert. She went in high spirits and great innocence. When they left Nigel said: "Do you know that I oughtn't to have taken you there to-night? It was wrong of me. If anyone had seen us there they would probably have mistaken our relations." She gave her boisterous laugh and said: "I see. Well, you would have had all the credit and none of the trouble." "You mean," he replied, "that I should have had all the infamy and none of the satisfaction." As they drove to the studio he took her hand and said: "One kiss." "Certainly not," she replied, taking it away. "Certainly not. Do you want me to be sorry I came out with you?" "I should like you to be glad," he replied. "Never mind, Miss Chivvey, forgive me. I won't ask you out again." "Why not? Haven't I been nice?" "Very nice. Too nice, too charming, too dangerous." He kissed her hand respectfully. "Good-bye. I'm angry with myself." "Never mind, I'll forgive you," she laughed flippantly. He drove away. Yes, one loses one's bearings travelling about alone, taking _jeunes filles_ to the theatre who live alone in Paris, say anything, have no chaperons, and are prudes all the time. "Confound it. I've made a fool of myself. But I must go and see Rupert." He lunched with that young man that day and told him word for word what had passed, even to the incident in the cab. He need not have been so expansive nor have humbled himself so much. Rupert had not for a moment misconstrued their presence at the theatre. Also he was not in the least surprised about the incident in the cab. Rupert was on the whole irritating. Nigel was glad to leave him. CHAPTER XXXV TWO WOMEN Bertha was very much surprised at Mary's wishing to see her. She thought it most extraordinary and was much inclined to refuse, remembering the strangely insulting way Mary had behaved at her party. Nigel had apologised indeed; had implored for forgiveness; and she had written to say it was forgotten. But it is not an easy thing to forget. Percy had given a mild version of his interview with Nigel. He had also told her now about the destroyed letters. Bertha was certainly vexed that she had not been told before. It would have, at least, prevented her going to the party. However, she was soon tired of the subject and agreed with Percy not to mention it again. Bertha was, as she said herself, nothing of a harpist. She could not go on playing on one string. She made up her mind to forget it. She had begun to do so when Mary's telephone message reached her.