isted, of course,
on his telephoning to her daily, or almost daily. She did this to
several of her more reliable friends, for there was no surer way of
convincing them of the genuineness of her regard for them than to
vituperate them when they failed to keep her informed of their health,
their spirits, and their doings. In the case of Gilbert, however, her
insistence had entirely ceased to be a professional device; she adored
him violently.

The telephoner was Gilbert. He made an amazing suggestion; he asked
her to come across to his flat, where she had never been and where
he had never asked her to go. It had been tacitly and quite amiably
understood between them that he was not one who invited young ladies
to his own apartments.

Christine cautiously answered that she was not sure whether she could
come.

"Are you alone?" he asked pleasantly.

"Yes, quite."

"Well, I will come and fetch you."

She decided exactly what she would do.

"No, no. I will come. I will come now. I shall be enchanted."
Purposely she spoke without conviction, maintaining a mysterious
reserve.

She returned to the sitting-room and the other man. Fortunately the
conversation on the telephone had been in French.

"See!" she said, speaking and feeling as though they were intimates.
"I have a lady friend who is ill. I am called to see her. I shall not
be long. I swear to you I shall not be long. Wait. Will you wait?"

"Yes," he replied, gazing at her.

"Put yourself at your ease."

She was relieved to find that she could so easily reconcile her desire
to please Gilbert with her pleasurable duty towards the protege of the
very clement Virgin.

Chapter 19

THE VISIT

In the doorway of his flat Christine kissed G.J. vehemently, but with
a certain preoccupation; she was looking about her, very curious. The
way in which she raised her veil and raised her face, mysteriously
glanced at him, puckered her kind brow--these things thrilled him.

She said:

"You are quite alone, of course."

She said it nicely, even benevolently; nevertheless he seemed to hear
her saying: "You are quite alone, or, of course, you wouldn't have let
me come."

"I suppose it's through here," she murmured; and without waiting for
an invitation she passed direct into the lighted drawing-room and
stood there, observant.

He followed her. They were both nervous in the midst of the interior
which he was showing her for the first time, and which she