"'If you like,' she replied, without showing any preference. Her face had resumed its almost sorrowful immobility. I took more time than she in saying good-by, because of my official position--When I left the embassy, I could not find her. She was already seated in one of those cabs between two large wheels known as a hansom. She called to me, and I got in beside her. On leaving Albert Gate House, we crossed Hyde Park, whose damp verdure shone in places under the electric lamps which encircled it, like a halo, because of a slight fog. From time to time we passed a swift carriage, but the park was otherwise almost deserted. It was very late. After our very animated conversation, we were silent. I felt an impression of loneliness in this unknown quarter of an immense city, whose language I scarcely knew, which recalled my autumnal walks in the woods of Dauphiné. In place of dead leaves I was walking over years. We were thinking of the same thing, and she broke the silence with these words: "'I hesitated to come this evening. I know why. It seemed that I have just completed a pilgrimage to Saint Ismier. It was so far, and again, it is so near.' "I looked at her. What a strong effect the sad expression of a face which is pleasing has upon us! But she was loth to reveal her thoughts any further and asked almost indifferently: "'You are leaving to-morrow?' "'No, the day after. I want to visit the Tower of London and to see the National Gallery again.' "A moment later, I added: "'And to see you, if you will permit me--' "'You will not have time.' "'I shall take it.' "'I am free to-morrow. I will call for you at your hotel. Hotel--?' "'Northumberland. Northumberland Avenue.' "'At ten o'clock. The Tower is open only at ten. I will be your guide--shall I?' "'With pleasure. No one here understands my English. And you will lunch with me.' "'On one condition. You will dine at Bladen Lodge in the evening.' "'Bladen Lodge?' "'Yes, Bolton Gardens. That is my home. I am living in a suite at the hotel. Have you a pencil, a card? Quickly, we are here. This is my address.' "The rather wide street we were passing through--Bolton Gardens--was lined with private hotels with little gardens in front of them. The cab stopped. Mlle. de Sézery said 'good-by' to me--jumped lightly from the high step, and called to the cabman, whom I did not see, 'Northumberland Avenue.' She was mounting the stairs, when I lost sight of her. "I was invited for the next evening to Lady Bartlett's, to meet the élite of English society. This forgetfulness of my interests and of propriety is rather like the action of a schoolboy. The number of hansoms was increasing. They drove between the lights of the sidewalks, the horses trotting easily with their light vehicles. In almost every one I saw a man with a woman in her evening wrap. I was nearing the section where the theaters are located. In thus going about London, I was taking in impressions quite new to me."