He remained perfectly still, but the slight colour seemed slowly
to be drawn from his cheeks. Yet the newcomer himself seemed in
no way terrifying. He was tall and largely built, clean-shaven,
and with the humourous mouth of an Irishman or an American.
Neither was there anything threatening in his speech.
"Glad to run up against you, Lessingham," he said, holding out his
hand. "Gay crowd here tonight, isn't it?"
"Very," Lessingham answered, speaking very much like a man in a
dream. "Lady Cranston, will you permit me to introduce my friend
--Mr. Hayter."
Philippa was immediately gracious, and a few moments passed in
trivial conversation. Then Mr. Hayter prepared to depart.
"I must be joining my friends," he observed. "Look in and see me
sometime, Lessingham--Number 72, Milan Court. You know what a
nightbird I am. Perhaps you will call and have a final drink
with me when you have finished here."
"I shall be very glad," Lessingham promised.
Mr. Hayter passed on, a man, apparently, of many acquaintances, to
judge by his interrupted progress. Lady Cranston looked at her
companion. She was puzzled.
"Is that a recent acquaintance," she asked, "as he addressed you by
the name of Lessingham?"
"Yes," was the quiet reply.
"You don't wish to talk about him?"
"No!"
Helen and her partner returned, a few moments later, and the little
party presently broke up.
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