‘Quite well?’

’Never was better.  Would you care to come back and dine with us at half-past seven?’

‘Of course I should.’

With this pleasant prospect he took his leave.  The afternoon being sunny, instead of walking straight to the station, to return home, he went out on to the Embankment, and sauntered round by Chelsea Bridge Road.  As he entered Sloane Square he saw Mrs. Widdowson, who was coming towards the railway; she walked rather wearily, with her eyes on the ground, and did not become aware of him until he addressed her.

‘Are we travelling the same way?’ he asked.  ‘Westward?’

‘Yes.  I am going all the way round to Portland Road.’

They entered the station, Barfoot chatting humorously.  And, so intent was he on the expression of his companion’s downcast face, that he allowed an acquaintance to pass close by him unobserved.  It was Rhoda Nunn, returning sooner than Miss Barfoot had expected.  She saw the pair, regarded them with a moment’s keen attentiveness, and went on, out into the street.

In the first-class carriage which they entered there was no other passenger as far as Barfoot’s station.  He could not resist the temptation to use rather an intimate tone, though one that was quite conventional, in the hope that he might discover something of Mrs. Widdowson’s mind.  He began by asking whether she thought it a good Academy this year.  She had not yet visited it, but hoped to do so on Monday.  Did she herself do any kind of artistic work?  Oh, nothing whatever; she was a very useless and idle person.  He believed she had been a pupil of Miss Barfoot’s at one time?  Yes, for a very short time indeed, just before her marriage.  Was she not an intimate friend of Miss Nunn?  Hardly intimate.  They knew each other a few years ago, but Miss Nunn did not care much about her now.

‘Probably because I married,’ she added with a smile.

‘Is Miss Nunn really such a determined enemy of marriage?’

’She thinks it pardonable in very weak people.  In my case she was indulgent enough to come to the wedding.’

This piece of news surprised Barfoot.

‘She came to your wedding?  And wore a wedding garment?’

‘Oh yes.  And looked very nice.’

‘Do describe it to me.  Can you remember?’

Seeing that no woman ever forgot the details of another’s dress, on however trivial an occasion, and at whatever distance of time, Monica was of course able to satisfy the inquirer.  Her curiosity excited, she ventured in turn upon one or two insidious questions.

‘You couldn’t imagine Miss Nunn in such a costume?’

‘I should very much like to have seen her.’

‘She has a very striking face—­don’t you think so?’

‘Indeed I do.  A wonderful face.’

Their eyes met.  Barfoot bent forward from his place opposite Monica.

‘To me the most interesting of all faces,’ he said softly.