"Madame," he said, "this gentleman is my relation, and he is ill. He is certainly not in a condition to be travelling about the country with—with you!"
Her self-control was beginning to evaporate. She addressed him shrilly. People at the surrounding tables were beginning to observe this unusual conversation.
"What, then?" she cried. "Is he not safer with me than you? How about Henri—Henri who came over here because we had been deceived, he and I,—poor Henri who died?"
"This," Delora muttered, "is your revenge, then!"
"It is my revenge, and I mean to have it," she answered, "This afternoon you will see."
Louis advanced and bowed to the man who still sat at the table, looking a little puzzled, and with his eyes still fixed upon Delora.
"Monsieur," he said, "shall I serve luncheon?"
There was an instant's pause. I fancied that I saw something pass between Louis and Delora. The latter turned away with a little shrug of the shoulders.
"Presently will be time," he said. "We will speak together, all three of us, before you leave."
The woman struck the table with the palm of her hand.