fell at once into step
with her. He wasted no time whatever upon preliminaries.

"I should be glad," he said, "if you would tell me your name."

Her first glance at him was fierce enough to have terrified a different
sort of man. Upon Tavernake it had absolutely no effect.

"You need not unless you like, of course," he went on, "but I wish
to talk to you for a few moments and I thought that it would be more
convenient if I addressed you by name. I do not remember to have heard
it mentioned at Blenheim House, and Mrs. Lawrence, as you know, does not
introduce her guests."

By this time they had walked a score or so of paces together. The girl,
after her first furious glance, had taken absolutely no notice of him
except to quicken her pace a little. Tavernake remained by her side,
however, showing not the slightest sense of embarrassment or annoyance.
He seemed perfectly content to wait and he had not in the least the
appearance of a man who could be easily shaken off. From a fit of
furious anger she passed suddenly and without warning to a state of half
hysterical amusement.

"You are a foolish, absurd person," she declared. "Please go away. I do
not wish you to walk with me."

Tavernake remained imperturbable. She remembered suddenly his
intervention on her behalf.

"If you insist upon knowing," she said, "my name at Blenheim House was
Beatrice Burnay. I am much obliged to you for what you did for me there,
but that is finished. I do not wish to have any conversation with you,
and I absolutely object to your company. Please leave me at once."

"I am sorry," he answered, "but that is not possible."

"Not possible?" she repeated, wonderingly.

He shook his head.

"You have no money, you have eaten no dinner, and I do not believe that
you have any idea where you are going," he declared, deliberately.

Her face was once more dark with anger.

"Even if that were the truth," she insisted, "tell me what concern it is
of yours? Your reminding me of these facts is simply an impertinence."

"I am sorry that you look upon it in that light," he remarked, still
without the least sign of discomposure. "We will, if you do not mind,
waive the discussion for the moment. Do you prefer a small restaurant or
a corner in a big one? There is music at Frascati's but there are not so
many people in the smaller ones."

She turned half around upon the pavement and looked at him steadfastly.
His personality was at last beginnin