"En effet!" he said, and went away.
Nevertheless he could not help reflecting that _Gare du Nord_ probably meant Calais, and Calais doubtless meant England, probably London.

As he thought of it he assured himself that it was London, and his irritation vanished at the thought of the futility of Elfrida in London.

It gave him a half curious, half solicitous amusement instead.
He pictured her with her Hungarian peasant's cloak and any one of her fantastic hats in the conventional highways he knew so well, and smiled.

"She will have to take herself differently there," he reflected, without pausing to consider exactly what he meant by it, "and she'll find that a bore." As yet he himself had never taken her differently so far as he was aware, and in spite of the obvious provocation of her behavior it did not occur to him to do it now.

He reflected with a shade of satisfaction that she knew his London address.