He smiled at her.

"I think I know what is at the back of your mind," he said. "You think
that I am coming back entirely on your account. As it happens, this is
not so."

She looked at him with wide-open eyes.

"Surely," she exclaimed, "you have satisfied yourself that there is no
field for your ingenuity in Dreymarsh?"

"I thought that I had," he admitted. "It seems that I am wrong. I have
had orders to return."

"Orders to return?" she repeated. "From whom?"

He shook his head.

"Of course, I ought not to have asked that," she proceeded hastily,
"but it does seem odd to realise that you can receive instructions and
messages from Germany, here in London."

"Very much the same sort of thing goes on in Germany," he reminded her.

"So they say," she admitted, "but one doesn't come into contact with it.
So you are really coming back to Dreymarsh!"

"With you, if I may?"

"Naturally," she agreed.

He glanced at the clock. "We might almost be starting for lunch," he
suggested.

She nodded. "As soon as I've told Grover about the luggage."

She was absent only a few moments, and then, as it was a dry, sunny
morning, they walked down St. James Street and along Pall Mall to the
Carlton. Philippa met several acquaintances, but Lessingham walked with
his head erect, looking neither to the right nor to the left.

"Aren't you sometimes afraid of being recognised?" she asked him. "There
must be a great many men about of your time at Magdalen, for instance?"

"Nine years makes a lot of difference," he reminded her, "and besides, I
have a theory that it is only when the eyes meet that recognition really
takes place. So long as I do not look into any one's face, I feel quite
safe."

"You are sure that you would not like to go to a smaller place than the
Carlton?"

"It makes no difference," he assured her. "My credentials have been
wonderfully established for me."

"I'm so glad," she confessed. "I know it's most unfashionable, but I do
like these big places. If ever I had my way, I should like to live
in London and have a cottage in the country, instead of living in the
country and being just an hotel dweller in London."

"I wonder if New York would not do?" he ventured.

"I expect I should like New York," she murmured.

"I think," he said, "in fact, I am almost sure that when I leave here I
shall go to the United States."

She looked at him and turned suddenly away. They arrived just then at
their destinat