She too was lonely, although her indomitable courage did not permit her to own it, even to herself. There was, too, something about the little man that was very attractive, something which made her feel sorry for him. She wished that he would ask her if he might join her and bring his own food. What was it about him which reminded her of some one she had seen before?
He returned reluctantly to his pitch. He felt that he deserved his dismissal. It was a very foolish thing to have shown that he was something of a scholar. Evidently she considered that he was putting on side.
He sat down and made a sandwich. He felt that he could eat it with some enjoyment if he were seated on the other side of her square of newspaper. As it was....
“I’m afraid I’m a great nuisance,” she began apologetically.
“Not at all. Far from it.” There was another chance, then.
“You haven’t got such a thing as a touch of mustard, I suppose?”
He got up again, and carried a little cold-cream pot with him.
“Oh, thank you!” She took the pot and gazed at its label, with raised eyebrows.
“It’s a has-been,” he said hastily. “I’m a bit of an engineer. Everything comes in useful.”
“Oh—thanks frightfully.” She helped herself.
“Honoured and delighted.” He remained standing over her.
“Yes, if you would. When you came here you said something about Carlton Hotel.”
Danby’s hand went up to his tie. It was extraordinary how nervous he felt these days.
“Don’t think me intrusive, but suppose we imagine that this is the Carlton Hotel, and that all the tables are full except one.”
“Well, in that case, as you and I both wish to lunch, it would be very natural for us to be put at the same table, wouldn’t it? Do you take me?”
“How kind you are!” said Danby. “It will give me an appetite for the first time for months.” He hurried to his belongings and brought them back. “I know this is very irregular, our not having been introduced, but I don’t think under the circumstances it will cause a scandal in high life.”
Danby respread his napkin and arranged his things on it. A sudden unexpected sensation of high spirits infected him.
He adopted what he considered to be the manner of a man of the world.
“Waitah, waitah!” he called, shooting his cuffs. “Great heaven, where’s that waitah! I shall really have to lodge a complaint with the manager. Hi! you in last week’s shirt, her ladyship and I have been waiting here for five minutes and no one’s been near us. It’s a disgrace. Don’t stand gaping there, sir, with a Swiss grin. Alley-vous ang. Gettey-vous gone toute suite, and bringey moi le menu. Verfluchtes, geschweinhund!” He waved the imaginary waiter away. “Pray pardon my heat, Lady Susan.”