Hunterleys was perplexed. Some time after luncheon he enquired for Lady Hunterleys and found that she was not in the hotel. A reception clerk thought that he had seen her go through on her way to the Sporting Club. Hunterleys, after some moments of indecision, followed her. He was puzzled at her impending departure, unable to account for it. The Draconmeyers, he knew, proposed to stay for another month. He walked thoughtfully along the private way and climbed the stairs into the Club. He looked for his wife in her usual place. She was not there. He made a little promenade of the rooms and eventually he found her amongst the spectators around the baccarat table. He approached her at once.
"You are not playing?"
She started at the sound of his voice. She was dressed very simply in travelling clothes, and there were lines under her eyes, as though she were fatigued.
"No," she admitted, "I am not playing."
"I understood in the hotel," he continued, "that you were leaving to-day."
"I am going back to England," she announced. "It does not amuse me here any longer."
He realised at once that something had happened. A curious sense of excitement stole into his blood.
"If you are not playing here, will you come and sit down for a few moments?" he invited. "I should like to talk to you."
She followed him without a word. He led the way to one of the divans in the roulette room.
"Your favourite place," he remarked, "is occupied."