ylvia Bailey's companion was obviously a Frenchman, or so Chester felt
sure, for now he found himself concentrating his attention on Mrs.
Bailey's neighbour rather than on her. This man, to whom she kept turning
and speaking in a low, earnest tone, was slim and fair, and what could be
seen of his evening clothes fitted scrupulously well. The Englishman,
looking at him with alien, jealous eyes, decided within himself that the
Frenchman with whom Sylvia seemed to be on such friendly terms, was a
foppish-looking fellow, not at all the sort of man she ought to have
"picked up" on her travels.

Suddenly Sylvia raised her head, throwing it back with a graceful
gesture, and Chester's eyes travelled on to the person who was standing
just behind her, and to whom she had now begun speaking with smiling
animation.

This was a woman--short, stout, and swarthy--dressed in a bright purple
gown, and wearing a pale blue bonnet which was singularly unbecoming to
her red, massive face. Chester rather wondered that such an odd, and
yes--such a respectable-looking person could be a member of this gambling
club. She reminded him of the stout old housekeeper in a big English
country house near Market Dalling.

Sylvia seemed also to include in her talk a man who was standing next the
fat woman. He was tall and lanky, absurdly and unsuitably dressed, to the
English onlooker, in a white alpaca suit and a shabby Panama hat. In his
hand he held a little book, in which he noted down every turn of the
game, and it was clear to Chester that, though he listened to Mrs. Bailey
with civility, he was quite uninterested in what she was saying.

Very different was the attitude of the woman; she seemed absorbed in
Sylvia's remarks, and she leant forward familiarly, throwing all her
weight on the back of the chair on which Mrs. Bailey was sitting.
Sometimes as she spoke she smiled in a way that showed her large, strong
teeth.

Chester thought them both odd, common-looking people. He was surprised
that Sylvia knew them--nay more, that she seemed on such friendly terms
with them; and he noticed that the Frenchman sitting next to her--the
dandyish-looking fellow to whom she had been talking just now--took no
part at all in her present conversation. Once, indeed, he looked up and
frowned, as if the chatter going on between Mrs. Bailey and her fat
friend fretted and disturbed him.

Play had again begun in earnest, and Sylvia turned her attention to the
ta