Mr Lintorn quietly surveyed him.
"Did you? How much have you lost?"
"How do you know I've lost?"
"Why?" Mr Lintorn shrugged his shoulders. "The man happens to be a cheat."
"Don't--don't you say that again!"
"Why not? You would have seen it yourself if you had had your wits about you. He was cheating all the time."
"You--!"
Mr Davison struck at his friend. Mr Lintorn warded off the blow. Mr Davison struck again. The man was drunk and bent upon a row. It was impossible to avoid him without actually turning tail and fleeing. So Mr Lintorn let him have it. Mr Davison lay on his back among the cobble-stones. Mr Lintorn advanced to his assistance. The recumbent hero greeted him with a volley of abuse. Seeing that to persist would only be to bring about a renewal of hostilities, Mr Lintorn strolled off to the hotel alone, leaving Mr Davison to follow at his leisure.
III
The next morning Mr Davison did not put in an appearance at breakfast. So Mr Lintorn went to look for him in his room. He knocked at the door.