"
"If you will allow me," Wingate said, "I will find you one."
Their farewells were a little casual. They were all, in a way, intimates.
Only Kendrick touched Wingate on the shoulder.
"Shall I see you in the City to-morrow?" he asked.
"About eleven o'clock," Wingate suggested, "if that is not too early.
There are a few things I want to talk to you about."
"Where shall I send my card?" Sarah called out after him.
"The Milan Hotel," he replied, "with terms, please."
She made a little grimace.
"Terms!" she repeated scornfully. "An American generally pays what he
is asked."
"On the contrary," Wingate retorted, "he pays for what he gets."
"Your address?" Wingate asked, as he handed Josephine into a taxicab.
"Dredlinton House, Grosvenor Square," she answered. "You mustn't let me
take you out of your way, though."
"Will you humour me?" he asked. "There is something I want to say to you,
and I don't want to say it here. May we drive to Albert Gate and walk in
the Park a little way? I can find you another taxi the other side."
"I should like that very much," she answered.
They spoke scarcely at all during their brief drive, or during the
first part of their walk in the Park. Then he pointed to two chairs
under a tree.
"May we sit here?" he begged, leading the way.
She followed, and they sat side by side.
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