. .‘Sir,’ She Said” Chapter XVIIJulia At half-past twelve Julia went out to lunch. She had an hour for lunch. And at the end of each week she and Jean cut cards to see who should go first and who wait till a later and more civilised hour. Lately Julia had been rather unlucky. Still, if she had won the cut she would not, she reflected, as she hurried up St. James’ towards Piccadilly, be in the position now of being able to pay an unexpected call upon Druce Mander. “And I must see him,” she thought. “I must find out what he’s driving at with Melanie.” Not that it was going to be an easy interview. She knew that well enough. Mander and she were by no means on terms of close acquaintanceship. They called each other, certainly, by their Christian names. But only because they moved in the same crowd, because they had between them the connecting link of Leon Carstairs. Except when they had danced, they had never been alone together. It was not going to be an easy interview. “Perhaps I’m a fool to come,”
