M. Polperro's clients spent, or so Sylvia supposed, much of
their time in their own rooms upstairs, or else in the Casino, while many
of them had their own motors, and went out on long excursions. They were
cosmopolitans, and among them were a number of Russians.
Here at the Pension Malfait, the clientele was French. All was loud
talking, bustle, and laughter. The large house contained several young
men who had daily work in Paris. Others, like Madame Wolsky, were at
Lacville in order to indulge their passion for play, and quite a number
of people came in simply for meals.
Among these last, rather to Sylvia's surprise, were Monsieur and Madame
Wachner, the middle-aged couple whom Anna Wolsky had pointed out as
having been at Aix-les-Bains the year before, at the same time as she
was herself.
The husband and wife were now sitting almost exactly opposite Anna and
Sylvia at the narrow table d'hote, and again a broad, sunny smile lit up
the older woman's face when she looked across at the two friends.
"We meet again!" she exclaimed in a guttural voice, and then in French,
addressing Madame Wolsky, "This is not very much like Aix-les-Bains, is
it, Madame?"
Anna shook her head.
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