"If you are in earnest, Mademoiselle, I will certainly do so, but there is nothing there. It is just a passage."
"You give me your address," she insisted, "and I think that I will come. You are a stockbroker, Mr. Bellamy tells me. Well, sometimes I have a good deal of money to invest. I come to you and you will give me your advice. So! You have a card!"
Laverick found one and scribbled his city address upon it. She thanked him and once more held out the tips of her fingers.
"So I shall see you again some day, Mr. Laverick."
He bowed and recrossed the room. Bellamy was standing talking to Zoe.
"Well," he asked, as Laverick returned, "are you, too, going to throw yourself beneath the car?"
Laverick shook his head.
"I do not think so," he answered. "Our acquaintance promises to be a business one. Mademoiselle spoke of investing some money though me."
Bellamy laughed.
"Then you have kept your heart," he remarked. "Ah, well, you have every reason!"
He bowed to Zoe, nodded to Laverick, and returned to his place. Laverick looked after him a little compassionately.
"Poor fellow," he said.
"Who is he?"
"He has some sort of a Government appointment," Laverick answered. "They say he is hopelessly in love with Mademoiselle Idiale."
"Why not?" Zoe exclaimed. "He is nice. She must care for some one. Why do you pity him?"
"They say, too, that she has no more heart than a stone," Laverick continued, "and that never a man has had even a kind word from her. She is very patriotic, and all the thoughts and love she has to spare from herself are given to her country."
Zoe shuddered.
"Ah!" she murmured, "I do not like to think of heartless women. Perhaps she is not so cruel, after all. To me she seems only very, very sad. Tell me, Mr. Laverick, why did she send for you?"
"I imagine," said he, "that it was a whim. It must have been a whim."