“I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. M. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. “That’s the point. ‘So it is that you could not help it. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria.
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