He had not, it appeared, after a little polite protestation, so she rang
for Sparks.

Her own appetite, too, had returned when the tray was brought; napkin and
plate were passed through the grille to him, and, as they lunched, he in
his cage, she close to the bars, they fell into conversation, exchanging
information concerning mutual acquaintances whom they had expected to
meet at the Delancy Courlands'.

"So you see," she said, "that if I had not changed my mind about going to
Tuxedo this morning you would not be here now. Nor I.... And we would
never have--lunched together."

"That didn't alter things," he said, smiling. "If you hadn't been ill you
would have gone to Tuxedo, and I should have seen you there."

"Then, whatever I did made no difference," she assented, thoughtfully,
"for we were bound to meet, anyway."

He remained standing close to the grille, which, as she was seated,
brought his head on a level with hers.

"It would seem," he said laughingly, "as though we were doomed to meet
each other, anyway. It looks like a case of Destiny to me."

She started slightly: "What did you say?"

"I said that it looks as though Fate intended us to meet, anyhow. Don't
you think so?"