“Oh, no! Whatever made you think such a thing? The person who is supposed to have the Evil Eye is a woman. Beppo Polda is staying here with a certain Marchese and Marchesa Pescobaldi. According to my aunt”—Lily had now quite slipped into the way of calling the Countess Polda her aunt—“this Italian lady has the Evil Eye.”
“I don’t know that I would believe everything the Countess Polda would say about another lady,” said M. Popeau reflectively. Then he added, almost as if speaking to himself: “I did not realise that Count Beppo was with the Pescobaldis.”
“They all came together, and they are all going away together, very soon,” said Lily.
“And what do you think of the Marchesa?” asked the Frenchman. “She was a very beautiful woman when I last saw her—before the war.”
“She is very, very beautiful still!” exclaimed Lily. “Her eyes are lovely—like large sparkling jewels. I looked well into them, but, of course, I could not see which was the Evil Eye!”
“Do not laugh at the Evil Eye,” said M. Popeau warningly. “I could tell you some curious stories about those who are supposed to possess it. The most dramatic of all my tales concerned the terrible fire which took place in Paris years ago, at what was called the Charity Bazaar. There were people who were so unkind as to suggest that the tragedy occurred owing to the presence of a very high Italian personage who was known to have the Evil Eye. He had just left the building when the fire broke out.”
They wandered about, all over the Casino, and then they went across to the Hôtel de Paris and M. Popeau ordered tea. Both the young Scotsman and the elderly Frenchman vied with one another in “fussing” over their guest, and Lily felt happy and exhilarated—what a delightful day she was having!
“And now,” said M. Popeau at last, “I fear it is time that I fulfilled my promise of escorting you back to La Solitude, Mademoiselle.”
“I hope you will allow me——” began Captain Stuart, but before he could finish his sentence, Lily exclaimed, “Why, there’s Beppo Polda!”
Hurrying towards them was a tall, dark man to whom Angus Stuart took an instant, instinctive, violent dislike. He told himself that Beppo Polda looked a foppish, theatrical fellow. That, however, was very unfair—it only meant that Beppo looked exceptionally well-dressed, what some people call “smart.”