"Come with me to the card-room, Philippe. Unless you wish to lead out la Salévier?" He nodded to where an opulent beauty stood.
"It's too fatiguing," said Philip. "I'll come."
"Who is he, the ill-disposed gentleman in pink?" inquired the Comte, when they were out of earshot.
"A creature of no importance," shrugged Philip.
"So I see. Yet he contrives to arouse your anger?"
"Yes," admitted Philip. "I do not like the colour of his coat."
"You may call upon me," said Saint-Dantin at once. "I do not like anything about him. He was here before—last year. His conversation lacks finesse. He is tolerated in London, hein?"
"I don't know. I trust not."
"Hé, hé! So he interfered between you and the lady?"
Philip withdrew his arm.