‘Why do you tell me all this?’ Margaret asked.  ’He was a disgusting-looking man, and I never wish to see him again.  Tell me about the Greek.  When we go to dinner you can finish the story in French.  We spoke French the first time we met, at Madame Bonanni’s.  Do you remember?’

‘Yes, of course I do.  But I was telling you about Mr. Feist—­’

‘Dinner is ready,’ Margaret said, rising as the servant opened the door.

To her surprise the man came forward.  He said that just as he was going to announce dinner Countess Leven had telephoned that she was dining out, and would afterwards stop on her way to the play in the hope of seeing Margaret for a moment.  She had seemed to be in a hurry, and had closed the communication before the butler could answer.  And dinner was served, he added.

Margaret nodded carelessly, and the two went into the dining-room.  Lady Maud could not possibly come before half-past nine, and there was plenty of time to decide whether she should be admitted or not.

‘Mr. Feist has been very ill,’ Logotheti said as they sat down to table under the pleasant light, ’and I have been taking care of him, after a fashion.’

Margaret raised her eyebrows a little, for she was beginning to be annoyed at his persistency, and was not much pleased at the prospect of Lady Maud’s visit.

‘How very odd!’ she said, rather coldly.  ’I cannot imagine anything more disagreeable.’

‘It has been very unpleasant,’ Logotheti answered, ’but he seemed to have no particular friends here, and he was all alone at an hotel, and really very ill.  So I volunteered.’

’I’ve no objection to being moderately sorry for a young man who falls ill at an hotel and has no friends,’ Margaret said, ’but are you going in for nursing?  Is that your latest hobby?  It’s a long way from art, and even from finance!’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Yes.  I’m beginning to be curious!’

‘I thought you would be before long,’ Logotheti answered coolly, but suddenly speaking French.  ’One of the most delightful things in life is to have one’s curiosity roused and then satisfied by very slow degrees!’

‘Not too slow, please.  The interest might not last to the end.’

‘Oh yes, it will, for Mr. Feist plays a part in your life.’

‘About as distant as Voltaire’s Chinese Mandarin, I fancy,’ Margaret suggested.

’Nearer than that, though I did not guess it when I went to see him.  In the first place, it was owing to you that I went to see him the first time.’

‘Nonsense!’

’Not at all.  Everything that happens to me is connected with you in some way.  I came to see you late in the afternoon, on one of your off-days not long ago, hoping that you would ask me to dine, but you were across the river at Lord Creedmore’s.  I met old Griggs at your door, and as we walked away he told me that Mr. Feist had fallen down in a fit at a club, the night before, and had been sent home in a cab to the Carlton.  As I had nothing to do, worth doing, I went to see him.  If you had been at home, I should never have gone.  That is what I mean when I say that you were the cause of my going to see him.’