There was nothing for me to do but to keep my word to Felicia and let things drift.
I drove to the club on my way to the station, where I had arranged for my baggage to be sent.

As I crossed Pall Mall I met Lamartine.

He was standing on the pavement, on the point of entering a motor-car on which was piled some luggage.
"So you, too, are leaving London," I remarked, stopping for a moment.
He looked at me curiously.
"I am going to Paris," he said.
"A pleasure trip ?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"Not entirely," he said.

"Only this morning I made a somewhat surprising discovery." "Concerning our friend ?" I asked.
"Concerning our friend," Lamartine echoed.
He seemed dubious, for a moment, whether to take me into his confidence.
"You have not found Delora yet ?" I asked.
"Not yet," he answered.

"And you ?" "I have seen him," I admitted.
"Are you disposed to tell me where ?" Lamartine asked softly.
I shook my head.
"I have finished with the affair," I told him.