"My man," he said to Louis, "surely I know your face? You have been here a long time, haven't you?"
"Ten years, sir," Louis answered. "Permit me!"
He gave them a table not far away from mine. The memory of his face as he preceded them down the room never left me. I glanced instinctively towards Delora. His back was turned towards the entrance of the restaurant, and he had apparently seen nothing. Felicia, on the contrary, sat as though she were turned to stone. I saw her lean over and whisper to her companion. A little murmur of excitement broke from my companion's lips.
"This," he murmured, "is amazing! The girl is a fool to bring him here. She must know that Louis is in it!"
"Who is the man?" I asked.
Lamartine looked at me with a curious expression in his dark eyes.
"Do you mean to say that you cannot guess?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"Only that he must be some relation to Delora," I declared. "There has been no time, though, for his brother to get across from South America."
Lamartine smiled.