"Oh, dear no—Perriam 's smashed."
"Smashed?"
"Exposed—in the City. But there are quantities of others!" Sir Claude threw in.
Maisie grouped them; she studied the gentleman's back. "Then is this Lord Eric?"
For a moment her companion made no answer, and when she turned her eyes again to him he was looking at her, she thought, rather queerly. "What do you know about Lord Eric?"
She tried, innocently, to be odd in return. "Oh, I know more than you think! Is it Lord Eric?" she repeated.
"It may be. Blest if I care!"
Their friends had slightly separated, and now, as Sir Claude spoke, they suddenly faced round, showing all the splendor of her ladyship and all the mystery of her comrade. Maisie held her breath. "They're coming!"
"Let them come." And Sir Claude, pulling out his cigarettes, began to strike a light.
"We shall meet them?" the child asked.
"No; they 'll meet us."
Maisie stood her ground. "They see us. Just look."
Sir Claude threw away his match. "Come
