Punctually at 12 o'clock the next morning, Lessingham presented himself at the hotel in Dover Street and was invited by the hall porter to take a seat in the lounge.

Philippa entered, a few minutes later, her eyes and cheeks brilliant with the brisk exercise she had been taking, her slim figure most becomingly arrayed in grey cloth and chinchilla.
"I lost Helen in Harrod's," she announced, "but I know she's lunching with friends, so it really doesn't matter.

You'll have to take care of me, Mr.Lessingham, until the train goes, if you will." "For even longer than that, if you will," he murmured.
She laughed.

"More pretty speeches?
I don't think I'm equal to them before luncheon." "This time I am literal," he explained.

"I am coming back to Dreymarsh myself." He felt his heart beat quicker, a sudden joy possessed him.