So he has come across, has he? Yes, the storm-birds are congregating, my
silent friend. There is something in the wind."

Deulin raised his long, thin nose into the dusty May air and sniffed it.

"Was that girl with them?" he inquired presently--"Miss Netty Cahere?"

"Yes."

"I always make love to Miss Cahere--she likes it best."

Cartoner stared straight in front of him, and made no comment. The
Frenchman gave a laugh, which was not entirely pleasant. It was rare
that his laugh was harsh, but such a note rang in it now. They did not
speak again until they had walked some distance northward of Piccadilly,
and stopped before a house with white window-boxes. Several carriages
stood at the other side of the road against the square railings.

"Is it her day?" inquired Deulin.

"Yes."

Deulin made a grimace expressive of annoyance.

"And we shall see a number of people we had better not see. But, since
we are here, let us go in--with a smile on the countenance, eh? my brave
Cartoner."

"And a lie on the tongue."