The familiar voice, the familiar glance! It was all too good to be true. He was blind to the presence of Ramsey. He was alone with her; Ramsey did not exist; the restaurant did not exist. The hum of voices, the clatter of plates, the movements of the waiters, were distant sounds: all he knew was that he was standing there by her. “Sit down, Bobby.” Mechanically he seated himself, and gradually some of his equanimity returned. He could speak, but he said nothing of what he felt. Instinctively he knew that it was wiser to make no reference to anything that had passed. Ramsey’s face was set and cold, but all his capacity for insolent indifference did not enable him to conceal his annoyance. His eyes flashed with anger. “I think we ought to be going; it is getting rather late. We don’t want to be swept out with the dust, do we?” He addressed Madame de Corantin. “Oh, I am in no hurry, Mr. Ramsey,” she replied. “It gives me great pleasure to see Mr. Froelich again. I was obliged to leave Paris so suddenly, and never had an opportunity of showing him how much I appreciated his kindness to me.” Ramsey said nothing, but he glared at Bobby vindictively. Presently Madame de Corantin rose, but as she left the room she made a point of keeping Bobby beside her, and in her inimitable way she asked Ramsey to fetch her cloak. For a moment Bobby had the exquisite joy of being alone with her. “Only tell me one thing,” he almost gasped. “Tell me that I may see you, and when.” She thought a moment. “Not tomorrow, I fear. I should like to so much, but I have not a moment. Come the next day to lunch. I am staying at Claridge’s.” Ramsey appeared with the cloak, and she was gone. What the next hours meant to Bobby can be imagined. They were passing somehow. The night, the morning, the afternoon wore away. He bought some magnificent roses and returned to his flat to dress, determined that he would take them himself to Claridge’s, hoping that by some chance he might catch a glimpse of her. He was just starting out when, to his surprise, Clancey was announced. “There is something I wanted to tell you, Froelich.” Bobby waited impatiently. “That lady you were talking about, Madame de Corantin. I think I remember something.” Bobby was nervously anxious to get away. What Clancey had to tell him mattered little now. “Oh, thanks very much, Clancey. The fact is, I’ve seen her.” Clancey’s nonchalant manner changed instantaneously. “Really!” he exclaimed. “At the Savoy last night. She is here in London. She is staying at Claridge’s. In fact, to tell you the truth, I am taking these flowers there now. I am to lunch with her to-morrow. It has been a great surprise. I never dreamt of such a thing,” Bobby stammered on excitedly. Clancey became calm again. “Oh, that’s most interesting,” he said. “You will lunch with her to-morrow! I say, Froelich, you might introduce me. I could turn up after lunch, you know.” Bobby’s face got serious.