The invitation was so gracious and alluring John could not refuse; he followed the lady into the car, and with the dogs in their laps, they glided forward. It was a luxuriously appointed car. Three silver sconces held flowers whose perfume competed with that of the lady. The chauffeur in front wore a cerise uniform, with a broad green collar. Inside they were quite silent for a few minutes. John's shyness overcame him, while the lady, reclining on an air cushion, arranged her furs and played with the collars of the dogs on her lap. John knew that he was being closely scrutinised, and he resolved not to reveal any more of his personal history. This close contact showed that his companion's age was about thirty-five, and the fresh complexion had not been acquired in the open air. She made no secret of this, for she lifted her half veil, opened a vanity bag, took out what appeared to be a silver pencil, and raising a small mirror, carefully attended to her lips, which reddened in the process. John wondered who she was. There was a little pile of visiting cards in the wallet under the motor watch but they were upside down so he could not read them. She was evidently a wealthy woman, and in some respects reminded him of Mrs. Graham, who also had a green jade vanity bag. Mrs. Graham, however, on the one occasion when she used its contents, told him to turn his head away. The lady in the car, having completed her toilet, raised a lorgnette, looked out of the window for a few moments, dropped it, and addressed John. "London can be a very lonely place," she said. "I know, because my husband is in India with his regiment." John hesitated in reply. He could not just say, "Oh," and if he said "I'm sorry," it would be stupid. So he simply said, "Yes." "Have you many friends here?" she asked. The question was kindly. He chatted brightly. Her first impression was correct, she thought, looking at him. He was a very handsome youth. When he looked down she saw how the long lashes swept his cheek, and when looking at her his eyes had wonderful depth. She liked the fine line of his profile, and the well-shaped, sloping ear; his hands too were fascinating, being strong and veinless. And in every movement and line, there was the symmetry of thoughtless youth, which was delightful. After a short time he, too, was admiring her intensely. She had an alluring voice--and he could not help noticing the ankles and small feet, so beautifully shod. They turned and twisted, caught a glimpse of a sheet of water, an ornamental garden and bridge, then turned again, running parallel with a main road, whose roar could be heard behind the screen of trees. The watch hands pointed to ten minutes to one. "I am lunching in Cumberland Place at one," she said. "Can I drop you on your way?" He had no way, but did not care to confess it. "At the gates will do, thank you." When the car drew up near Marble Arch, she took a card from the wallet.