hands lay on her lap motionless, one in the other loosely clasped.
I knew from what I had heard that she was a woman of
violent passions; and that injurious blow that she had given
Dirk, the man who had loved her so devotedly, betrayed a
sudden temper and a horrid cruelty. She had abandoned the
safe shelter of her husband's protection and the comfortable
ease of a well-provided establishment for what she could not
but see was an extreme hazard. It showed an eagerness for
adventure, a readiness for the hand-to-mouth, which the care
she took of her home and her love of good housewifery made not
a little remarkable. She must be a woman of complicated
character, and there was something dramatic in the contrast of
that with her demure appearance.

I was excited by the encounter, and my fancy worked busily
while I sought to concentrate myself on the game I was playing.
I always tried my best to beat Strickland, because
he was a player who despised the opponent he vanquished;
his exultation in victory made defeat more difficult to bear.
On the other hand, if he was beaten he took it with complete
good-humour. He was a bad winner and a good loser. Those who
think that a man betrays his character nowhere more clearly
than when he is playing a game might on this draw subtle
inferences.

When he had finished I called the waiter to pay for the
drinks, and left them. The meeting had been devoid of
incident. No word had been said to give me anything to think
about, and any surmises I might make were unwarranted.
I was intrigued. I could not tell how they were getting on.
I would have given much to be a disembodied spirit so that I
could see them in the privacy of the studio and hear what they
talked about. I had not the smallest indication on which to
let my imagination work.

Chapter XXXIII

Two or three days later Dirk Stroeve called on me.

"I hear you've seen Blanche," he said.

"How on earth did you find out?"

"I was told by someone who saw you sitting with them.
Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it would only pain you."

"What do I care if it does? You must know that I want to hear
the smallest thing about her."

I waited for him to ask me questions.

"What does she look like?" he said.

"Absolutely unchanged."

"Does she seem happy?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"How can I tell? We were in a cafe; we were playing chess;
I had no opportunity to speak to her."

"Oh, but couldn't yo