"I am very much obliged to you for the hint," Hunterleys said smoothly.
"I will certainly mention the matter to her."

"And if I don't see you again," Draconmeyer concluded, watching him
closely, "good-bye!"

Hunterleys did not appear to notice the tentative movement of the
other's hand. He was already on his way to the spot where his wife was
sitting. Draconmeyer watched his progress with inscrutable face.
Selingman, who had been sitting near, rose and joined him.

"Will he go?" he whispered. "Will our friend take this very reasonable
hint and depart?"

Draconmeyer's eyes were still fixed upon Hunterleys' slim,
self-possessed figure. His forehead was contorted into a frown. Somehow
or other, he felt that during their brief interview he had failed to
score; he had felt a subtle, underlying note of contempt in Hunterleys'
manner, in his whole attitude.

"I do not know," he replied grimly. "I only hope that if he stays, we
shall find the means to make him regret it!"

CHAPTER XII

"I CANNOT GO!"

Hunterleys stood for several minutes, watching his wife's play from a
new point of view. She was certainly playing high and with continued
ill-fortune. For the first time, too, he noticed symptoms which
disturbed him. She sat quite motionless, but there was an unfamiliar
glitter in her eyes and a hardness about her mouth. It was not until he
had stood within a few feet of her for nearly a quarter of an hour, that
she chanced to see him.

"Did you want me?" she asked, with a little start.

"There is no hurry," he replied. "If you could spare me a few moments
later, I should be glad."

She rose at once, thrusting her notes and gold into the satchel which
she was carrying, and stood by his side. She was very elegantly dressed
in black and white, but she was pale, and, watching her with a new
intentness, he discovered faint violet lines under her eyes, as though
she had been sleeping ill.

"I am rather glad you came," she said. "I was having an abominable run
of bad luck, and yet I hated to give up my seat without an excuse. What
did you want, Henry?"

"I should like," he explained, "to talk to you for a quarter of an hour.
This place is rather crowded and it is getting on my nerves. We seem to
live here, night and day. Would you object to driving with me--say as
far as Mentone and back?"

"I will come if you wish it," she answered, looking a little surprised.
"Wait while I get my cloak."

Hunterleys