"Don't you think I'm big enough to take care of myself?" Lane asked, with a little laugh. "Besides, there's an American Consul here, and plenty of English witnesses who saw the whole thing. Can't think why they're trying on such a silly game."
"Mr. Grex may have influence," Hunterleys suggested.
"Who the mischief is my prospective father-in-law?" Richard demanded, almost testily. "There's an atmosphere about that house and the servants I can't understand a bit."
"You wouldn't," Hunterleys observed drily. "Well, in a day or two I'll tell you who Mr. Grex is. I'd rather not to-night."
"By the way," Lane continued, "your wife was asking if you were here, a few minutes ago."
Hunterleys rose quickly to his feet.
"Where is she?"
"She was at her usual place at the top roulette table, but she gave it up just as I passed, said she was going to walk about," the young man replied. "I don't think she has left yet."
Hunterleys excused himself hastily. In the little space between the restaurant and the roulette rooms he came suddenly upon Violet. She was leaning back in an obscure corner, with her hands clasped helplessly in her lap before her. She was sitting quite still and his heart sank when he saw her. The lines under her eyes were unmistakable now; her cheeks, too, seemed to have grown hollow. Her first look at him almost made him forget all their differences. There was something piteous in the tremble of her lips. He drew a chair to her side.
"Richard told me that you wished to speak to me," he began, as lightly as he could.