She rose and concealed a simulated yawn.
De Chauxville looked at her with his sinister smile, and Etta suddenly saw the resemblance which Paul had noted between this man and the grinning mask of the lynx in the smoking-room at Osterno.
“When?” repeated he.
Etta shrugged her shoulders.
“I wish to speak to you about the Charity League,” said De Chauxville.
Etta’s eyes dilated. She made a step or two away from him, but she came back.
“I shall not go to the luncheon to-morrow, if you care to leave the hunt early.”
De Chauxville bowed.