She nodded to him and smiled. And in a moment she was gone. Mr Davison found Mr Lintorn still engaged in putting the finishing touches to his costume. The expression of his countenance was a vivid note of interrogation.
"Well, was it she?"
Mr Davison said "Yes."
"I should have won that guinea."
Mr Davison narrated the interview. When he had finished, Mr Lintorn reflected.
"Odd! Something of the same sort happened to me. It was at Mentone I first encountered the de Fontanes. On two or three evenings I played écarté. I lost; but not five hundred pounds. Two or three days afterwards the sum which I had lost came to me enclosed in an envelope. Not a scrap of writing was with it, but the address was in a feminine hand; I always suspected it came from the lady. When I again inquired for the de Fontanes they were gone. But my curiosity was piqued. I did not forget them. So I renewed the acquaintance when I saw them here."
"If he challenges me, what shall I do? I promised not to fight him. Besides, the thing would be a rank absurdity."
"Stand to your promise. I tell you what to do. There's a boat leaves for Folkestone in an hour. Let's go by it together."
"But wouldn't that look like running away?"
"It would be running away."