We did not sit long over our wine, and John Turner reserved his cigar until a later opportunity.
"I'll play you a game of billiards," he said, looking at me.
In the drawing-room we found Lucille already; at the piano.
"I have some new songs," she said, "from the Basque country. I wonder if you will prefer them to the old."
I was crossing the room towards Madame, and a silence made me pause and look towards the piano. Lucille was addressing me—and no doubt I was clumsy enough to betray my surprise.
"I think I shall prefer the old ones, Mademoiselle," I answered.
She was fingering the pages carelessly, and Alphonse, who was always quick at such matters, stepped forward.
"As the songs are new the pages will require turning."
"Thank you," answered Lucille, rather coldly as I thought, and Madame looked at me with a queer expression of impatience, as if I had done something amiss. She took up her book and presently closed her eyes. John Turner did the same, and I, remembering that he was a heavy breather, went up to him.
"I am ready to beat you at billiards," I said.