fect my English," she said. Tea was finished; they were smoking,
the _Evening News_ spread between them over the tea-things. She
articulated with a strong French accent the words of some of the
headings. "Mistair Carlos Smith keeled at the front," she read out.
"Who is it, that woman there? She must be celebrated."

There was a portrait of the illustrious Concepcion, together with some
sympathetic remarks about her, remarks conceived very differently from
the usual semi-ironic, semi-worshipping journalistic references to the
stars of Concepcion's set. G.J. answered vaguely.

"I do not like too much these society women. They are worse than us,
and they cost you more. Ah! If the truth were known--" Christine
spoke with a queer, restrained, surprising bitterness. Then she added,
softly relenting: "However, it is sad for her.... Who was he, this
monsieur?"

G.J. replied that he was nobody in particular, so far as his knowledge
went.

"Ah! One of those who are husbands of their wives!" said Christine
acidly.

The disturbing intuition of women!

A little later he said that he must depart.

"But why? I feel better."

"I have a committee."

"A committee?"

"It is a work of charity--for the French wounded."

"Ah! In that case.... But, beloved!"

"Yes?"

She lowered her voice.

"How dost thou call thyself?"

"Gilbert."

"Thou knowest--I have a fancy for thee."

Her tone was delicious, its sincerity absolutely convincing.

"Too amiable."

"No, no. It is true. Say! Return. Return after thy committee. Take me
out to dinner--some gentle little restaurant, discreet. There must be
many of them in a city like London. It is a city so romantic. Oh! The
little corners of London!"

"But--of course. I should be enchanted--"

"Well, then."

He was standing. She raised her smiling, seductive face. She was
young--younger than Concepcion; less battered by the world's contacts
than Concepcion. She had the inexpressible virtue and power of youth.
He was nearing fifty. And she, perhaps half his age, had confessed his
charm.

"And say! My Gilbert. Bring me a few flowers. I have not been able
to go out to-day. Something very simple. I detest that one should
squander money on flowers for me."

"Seven-thirty, then!" said he. "And you will be ready?"

"I shall be very exact. Thou wilt tell me all that concerns thy
committee. That interests me. The English are extraordinary."

Chapter 13

IN COMMITTEE

Wi