"I see Harcutt in the corner," he said. "He will know who they are for certain. I shall go and ask him."
He crossed the room and chatted for a few minutes with a noisy little party in an adjacent recess. Presently he put his question. Alas! not one of them knew! Harcutt, a journalist of some note and a man who prided himself upon knowing absolutely everybody, was as helpless as the rest. To his humiliation he was obliged to confess it.
"I never saw either of them before in my life," he said. "I cannot imagine who they can be. They are certainly foreigners."
"Very likely," Wolfenden agreed quietly. "In fact, I never doubted it. An English girl of that age--she is very young by the bye--would never be so perfectly turned out."
"What a very horrid thing to say, Lord Wolfenden," exclaimed the woman on whose chair his hand was resting. "Don't you know that dressing is altogether a matter of one's maid? You may rely upon it that that girl has found a treasure!"
"Well, I don't know," Wolfenden said, smiling. "Young English girls always seem to me to look so dishevelled in evening dress. Now this girl is dressed with the art of a Frenchwoman of mature years, and yet with the simplicity of a child."
The woman laid down her lorgnettes and shrugged her shoulders.
"I agree with you," she said, "that she is probably not English. If she were she would not wear such diamonds at her age."
"By the bye," Harcutt remarked with sudden cheerfulness, "we shall be able to find out who the man is when we leave. The table was reserved, so the name will be on the list at the door."
His friends rose to leave and Harcutt, making his adieux, crossed the room with Wolfenden.
"We may as well have our coffee together," he said. "I ordered Turkish and I've been waiting for it ten minutes. We got here early. Hullo! where's your other guest?"
Densham was sitting alone. Wolfenden looked at him inquiringly.
"Your friend Felix has gone," he announced. "Suddenly remembered an engagement with his chief, and begged you to excuse him. Said he'd look you up to-morrow."
"Well, he's an odd fellow," Wolfenden remarked, motioning Harcutt to the vacant place. "His looks certainly belie his name."
"He's not exactly a cheerful companion for a supper party," Densham admitted, "but I like his face. How did you come across him, Wolfenden, and where does he hail from?"