“You are too amiable, madame.  A friend had it done for me.”

They sat down.

“You are deliciously installed here,” said the Russian perfunctorily, looking round.  “Now, madame, I have been here only three weeks.  And to-night I receive a notice to quit.  Shall I be indiscreet if I ask if you have received a similar notice?”

“This very evening,” said Christine, in secret still more disconcerted by this further proof of a general plot against human nature.  She was about to add:  “I found it here on my return home,” but, remembering her fib, managed to stop in time.

“Well, madame, I know little of London.  Without doubt you know London to the bottom.  Is it serious, this notice?”

“I think so.”

“Quite serious?”

Christine said: 

“You see, there is a crisis.  It is the war that in London has led to the discovery that men have desires.  Of course, it will pass, but—­”

“Oh, of course....  But it is grotesque, this crisis.”

“It is perfectly grotesque,” Christine agreed.

“You do not by hazard know where one can find flats to let?  I hear speak of Bloomsbury and of Long Acre.  But it seems to me that those quarters—­”

“I am in London since now more than eighteen months,” said Christine.  “And as for all those things I know little.  I have lived here in this flat all the time, and I go out so rarely—­”

The Russian put in with eagerness: 

“Oh, I also!  I go out, so to speak, not at all.”

“I thought I had seen you once in the Promenade at the—­”

“Yes, it is true,” interrupted the Russian quickly.  “I went from curiosity, for distraction.  You see, since the war I have lived in Dublin.  I had there a friend, very highly placed in the administration.  He married.  One lived terrible hours during the revolt.  I decided to come to London, especially as—­However, I do not wish to fatigue you with all that.”

Christine said nothing.  The Irish Rebellion did not interest her.  She was in no mood for talking about the Irish Rebellion.  She had convinced herself that all Sinn Feiners were in German pay, and naught else mattered.  Never, she thought, had the British Government carried ingenuousness further than in this affair!  Given a free hand, Christine with her strong, direct common sense would have settled the Irish question in forty-eight hours.

The Russian, after a little pause, continued: 

“I merely wished to ask you whether the notice to quit was serious—­not a trick for raising the rent.”

Christine shook her head to the last clause.

“And then, if the notice was quite serious, whether you knew of any flats—­not too dear....  Not that I mind a good rent if one receives the value of it, and is left tranquil.”