He took me into
Paris to see his sister; she is the Duchesse d'Eglemont. You will
remember that the Duc d'Eglemont won the Derby two years ago?"
And as he made no answer she went on, as if on the defensive.
"The Comte de Virieu has to go away to the funeral of his godmother. I am
sorry, for I should have liked you to have become friends with him. He
was at school in England--that is why he speaks English so well."
While they were enjoying the excellent luncheon prepared for them by M.
Polperro, Chester was uncomfortably aware that the Count, sitting at his
solitary meal at another table, could, should he care to do so, overhear
every word the other two were saying.
But Paul de Virieu did not look across or talk as an Englishman would
probably have done had he been on familiar terms with a fellow-guest in
an hotel. Instead he devoted himself, in the intervals of the meal, to
reading a paper. But now and again Chester, glancing across, could see
the other man's eyes fixed on himself with a penetrating, thoughtful
look. What did this Frenchman mean by staring at him like that?
As for Sylvia, she was obviously ill at ease.
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