Chalfont was just going to sit down to his breakfast—it was only half-past nine—when she was announced. The earliness of her visit surprised him, but he was none the less pleased to see her. Many times during his absence he had recalled her pretty face, her extraordinary gift of honest frankness, and above all the sympathetic womanliness she had shown at their last meeting. "I expect you think I’m mad coming to see you so early in the morning," she began. "I’m glad to see you at any time," he said. "Have you had breakfast?" "I snatched it. I wanted to catch you in, and I didn’t want my Fred to know. He wouldn’t like me to be here. Of course, I shan’t tell him, because I’ve come in a good cause. Can you lend me some diamonds?" He was a little staggered by the request. He would have been prepared to swear that Maggy was not of the grasping sort, and yet here she was, admittedly against the regulations, blandly asking him for diamonds at half-past nine in the morning. He laughed. "Look here, I haven’t had breakfast yet. It’s ready. Suppose you have it with me and tell me why you want them." "May I? I should love it." He rang the bell, and his man quickly laid another place at the table. "Sole, omelette, kidneys?" inquired Chalfont. "You need not wait, Mitchell." "Omelette, please," said Maggy, taking the seat he offered her before the tea and coffee equipage. "Coffee for you? And sugar?" "Thanks." He came back from the sideboard where he had gone to the electrically-heated stand, smiled as he served her, and took the cup she handed him. "Do you know," he said, taking his seat, "I seem to have the feeling that we’ve breakfasted before." "So have I," she rejoined. "I like it." "Your hat spoils the illusion, though." "How?" "Of a woman in the house." She unpinned it and tossed it on to a chair. The reluctance that had made her retain it that day so many months ago when she had lunched for the first time with Woolf was quite absent now. "Well, what about the diamonds?" asked Chalfont. "They’re not for me. I want them for Lexie. But it must be a secret. She’d shake me if she knew. She’s back again at the Pall Mall now." "I wanted to ask you about her. What is she doing there?" "I’ll tell you all from the beginning," said Maggy. "This omelette’s splendid. It was through her legacy. The furs and the dresses poor Mrs. Lambert left her." Chalfont nodded.