quiet deliberation of a connoisseur, neither seeking nor
accepting any advice from the dark-visaged waiter who stood by his side,
and finally writing out his few carefully chosen dishes with a special
postscript as to the coffee, which, by-the-bye, we were never to taste.
He then leaned over the table and began to talk.

Apparently my host had been in every country of the world, and mixed
with people of note in each. His anecdotes were always pungent, personal
without being egotistical, and savoured always with a certain dry and
perfectly natural humour. I found myself both interested and fascinated
by his constant flow of reminiscences, and yet at times my attention
wandered. For within a few yards of us were seated the man and the
child.

Everything that was noticeable in their demeanour towards one another at
the station was even more apparent here. A bottle of champagne stood
upon the table. The man had ordered such a luncheon that the head-waiter
was seldom far from his side, and the manager in person had come to pay
his respects. He himself was apparently doing full justice to it. His
cheeks were flushed, his eyes moist, and his little bursts of laughter
as he persevered in his attentions to his companion grew louder and more
frequent. But opposite to him, the child's face was unchanged. Her glass
was full of wine, but she seemed never to touch it. Her long white
fingers played with her bread, but she seemed to eat little or nothing.
Her face was pallid and drawn; there was terror--absolute, undiluted
terror--in her unnaturally large eyes. Often when the man spoke to her
she shivered. Her eyes seemed constantly trying to escape his gaze,
wandering round the room, the terror of a hunted animal in their soft,
luminous depths. Once they rested upon mine--I was seated in the corner
facing her--and it seemed to me that there was appeal--desperate,
frenzied appeal--in that long, tense look which thrilled all my pulses
with passionate sympathy. Yet she held herself all the while stiff and
erect. There was a certain sustaining pride in her close, firm-set
mouth. There was never any sign of tears, though more than once her lips
parted for a moment in a pitiful quiver.

The table at which we were sitting was just inside the door, in the
left-hand corner. The man and the girl were upon the opposite side, and
a few yards further in the room. My host, with his face to the door,
could see neither of them, therefore, without t