“Now don’t get spiteful. That’s all rot: let’s enjoy ourselves. There is the old girl: she’s looking at you.”
She had passed through some of the rooms on his arm; and they saw, near a tombola, round which people were crowding to draw presents and surprises, Mrs. Uxeley, Gilio and the Rosavilla, Costi and Luca ladies. They were all very gay round the pyramid of knickknacks, behaving like children when the number of one of them turned up on the roulette-wheel.
“Mrs. Uxeley,” Cornélie began, in a trembling voice, “may I introduce a fellow-countryman of mine? Baron Brox.”
Mrs. Uxeley simpered, uttered a few amiable words and asked if he wouldn’t draw a number.
The roulette-wheel spun round and round.
“A fellow-countryman, Cornélie?”
“Yes, Mrs. Uxeley.”
“What do you say his name is?”
“Baron Brox.”
“A splendid fellow! A handsome fellow! An astonishingly handsome fellow!... What is he? What does he do?”