Laverick smiled.
"I am afraid," said he, "that I cannot promise that so quickly. You see, I have not known her long, but she has very few friends and I think that she would miss me. Perhaps," he added, after a second's pause, "I care for her too much."
"It is not for you," she answered scornfully, "to care too much. An Englishman, he cares never enough. A woman to him is something amusing,--his companion for a little of his spare time, something to be pleased about, to show off to his friends,--to share, even, the passion of the moment. But an Englishman he does not care too much. He never cares enough. He does not know what it is to care enough."
"Mademoiselle, there may be truth in what you say, and again there may not. We have the name, I know, of being cold lovers, but at least we are faithful."
She held up her hand with a little grimace.
"Oh, how I do hate that word!" she exclaimed. "Who is there, indeed, who wishes that you would be faithful? How much we poor women do suffer from that! Why can you never understand that a woman would be cared for very, very much, with all the strength and all the passion you can conceive, but let it not last for too long. It gets weary. It gets stale. It is as you say,--the Englishman he cares very little, perhaps, but he cares always; and the woman, if she be an artiste and a woman, she tires. But good afternoon, Mr. Laverick! I must not keep you here on the pavement talking of these frivolous matters. You come to-night?"
"You are very kind," Laverick said. "If I may come until eleven o'clock, it would give me the greatest pleasure."
"As you will," she declared. "We shall see. I expect you, then. You ask for your box."
"If you wish it, certainly."
She smiled and waved her hand.
"You will tell him, please," she directed, "to drive to Bond Street."
Laverick re-entered his office, pausing for a minute to give his clerk instructions for the purchase of stocks for Mademoiselle Idiale. He had scarcely reached his own room when he was told that Mr. James Shepherd wished to speak to him for a moment upon the telephone. He took up the receiver.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"It is Shepherd," was the answer. "Is that Mr. Laverick?"
"Yes!"
"You were outside the restaurant here a few minutes ago," Shepherd continued. "You had with you a lady--a young, tall lady with a veil."
"That's right," Laverick admitted. "What about her?"