"Sir Lucien Pyne has rung up, Madam, and wishes to speak to you."
Sir Lucien! Sir Lucien had come back? Rita experienced a swift return
of feverish energy. Half dressed as she was, and without pausing to
take a wrap, she ran out to the telephone.
Never had a man's voice sounded so sweet as that of Sir Lucien when he
spoke across the wires. He was at Albemarle Street, and Rita, wasting
no time in explanations, begged him to await her there. In another ten
minutes she had completed her toilette and had sent Nina to 'phone for
a cab. (One of the minor details of his wife's behavior which latterly
had aroused Irvin's distrust was her frequent employment of public
vehicles in preference to either of the cars.)
Quentin Gray she had quite forgotten, until, as she was about to
leave:
"Is there any message for Mr. Gray, Madam?" inquired Nina naively.
"Oh!" cried Rita. "Of course! Quick! Give me some paper and a pencil."
She wrote a hasty note, merely asking Gray to proceed to the
restaurant, where she promised to join him, left it in charge of the
maid, and hurried off to Albemarle Street.
Mareno, the silent, yellow-faced servant who had driven the car on the
night of Rita's first visit to Limehouse, admitted her.
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