At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. He drew a little sigh of relief. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. ’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. "You were saying—?" "I started to say something; that is all.
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