The woman laughed softly as she held out her hand.

"Are you going to pretend that you were deaf, to forgive me and be
friends, Mr. Chetwode?" she asked, looking up at him. "One foggy
day my husband took me to Tooley Street, and I did not believe that
anything good could come out of the yellow fog and the mud and the
smells. It was my ignorance. You heard, but you do not mind? I am
sure that you do not mind?"

"Not a bit in the world," Arnold answered, still holding the hand
which she seemed to have forgotten to draw away, and smiling down
into her upturned face. "I was awfully sorry to overhear but you see
I couldn't very well help it, could I?"

"Of course you could not help it," she replied. "I am so glad that
you came and I hope that we can make it pleasant for you. I will try
and send you in to dinner with some one very charming."

She laughed at him understandingly as his lips parted and closed
again without speech. Then she turned away to welcome some other
guests, who were at that moment announced. Arnold stood in the
background for a few minutes. Presently she came back to him.

"Do you know any one here?" she asked.

"No one," he answered.

She dropped her voice almost to a whisper. Arnold bent his head and
listened with a curious pleasure to her little stream of words.