"Three hundred pounds!" repeated the young man, a little hoarsely, perhaps.
"It shall not be!"
The interruption came from Mdlle. de Fontanes. She advanced to the table. She laid her hand upon the pack of cards which Mr Davison was about to deal. Her father looked up at her interrogatively.
"I say it shall not be. I will not have it, father. Mr Davison, you owe my father nothing; he cheats you all the time."
M. de Fontanes rose. His tall figure seemed to tower to an unusual height.
"I care not. I tell you, Mr Davison, you owe my father nothing--not a sou--! He cheats you all the time!"
Mr Davison staggered to his feet, his eyes opened, as it were, by a sudden flash of lightning. He threw the pack of cards, which he was holding, into the old man's face.
There was silence. Then the old man's lips moved.
"To-morrow," he muttered, so that the words were scarcely audible, and left the room.
When he was gone, the lady addressed the gentleman: