"Just imagine, if you were little Mavis Keeves grown up," began
Windebank.
"Never mind about her," replied Mavis uneasily.
"But I do. I loved her, the cheeky little wretch."
"Was she?"
"A little flirt, too."
"Oh no."
"Fact. I think it made me love her all the more."
"Are you trying to make me jealous?" she asked, making a sad little
effort to be light-hearted.
"I wish I could. There was a chap named Perigal, whom the little
flirt preferred to me."
"Perigal?"
"Charlie Perigal. We were laughing about it only the week before
last."
"He loved her too?"
"Rather. I remember we both subscribed to buy her a birthday
present. Anyway, the week before last, we both asked each other what
had become of her, and promised to let each other know if we heard
anything of her."
"If I were Mavis Keeves, would you let him know?"
"No fear."
Mavis smiled at the reply.
"Then we come to to-day," continued Windebank.
"The least said of to-day the better."
"I'm not so sure; it may have the happiest results."
"Don't talk nonsense."
"Do let me go on. Assuming you were little Mavis, where do I find
her--eh?"
Here Windebank's face hardened.
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