"
"I am enchanted to meet you, sir. We 'oped to see you at dinner."
Chester bowed. She had a pleasant voice, this friend of Sylvia's, and she
spoke English well, even if she did drop her aitches!
"It is getting rather late"--Chester turned to Sylvia, but he spoke quite
pleasantly.
"Yes, we must be going; are you staying on?" Sylvia was addressing the
woman she had just introduced to Chester, but her eyes were wandering
towards the gambling table. Perhaps she had suddenly remembered her five
louis.
Chester smiled a little grimly to himself. He wondered if Sylvia would be
surprised to hear that her neighbour, the fair Frenchman to whom she had
been talking so familiarly, had "collared" her stakes and her winnings.
"No, indeed! We, too, must be going 'ome. Come, Fritz, it is getting
late." The devoted wife spoke rather crossly. They all four turned, and
slowly walked down the room.
Sylvia instinctively fell behind, keeping step with Monsieur Wachner,
while Chester and Madame Wachner walked in front.
The latter had already taken the measure of the quiet, stolid-looking
Englishman.
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