He was tall and lanky, absurdly and unsuitably dressed, to the
English onlooker, in a white alpaca suit and a shabby Panama hat. In his
hand he held a little book, in which he noted down every turn of the
game, and it was clear to Chester that, though he listened to Mrs. Bailey
with civility, he was quite uninterested in what she was saying.
Very different was the attitude of the woman; she seemed absorbed in
Sylvia's remarks, and she leant forward familiarly, throwing all her
weight on the back of the chair on which Mrs. Bailey was sitting.
Sometimes as she spoke she smiled in a way that showed her large, strong
teeth.
Chester thought them both odd, common-looking people. He was surprised
that Sylvia knew them--nay more, that she seemed on such friendly terms
with them; and he noticed that the Frenchman sitting next to her--the
dandyish-looking fellow to whom she had been talking just now--took no
part at all in her present conversation. Once, indeed, he looked up and
frowned, as if the chatter going on between Mrs. Bailey and her fat
friend fretted and disturbed him.
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