He was heartily thankful for it. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. ’ ‘Then who is this Englishman?’ demanded Gerald on a sceptical note. ‘There was a priest, the father confessor, you understand. Her thoughts took words for themselves. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. You keep on coming truer, after you have seemed to come altogether true. And nowhere could I obtain the slightest information.
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