His smile faded. She kept her face downcast. . It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. She began to think persistently of Capes, and it seemed to her now that for some weeks at least she must have been thinking persistently of him unawares. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. "I have dreamed that I shall see him before I die," she rejoined. Her heartbeat quickened. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. And then I'll pay off old scores. ‘Merely making a useful contact. Kneebone will excuse you. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence.
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