“Ah!” Zarka was still almost indifferent. “I have heard of him but never seen him. A dark, fierce-looking fellow, eh? A forbidding appearance, I am told.”
“Not half as forbidding as some one I know,” thought Galabin, but he said: “Dark certainly, and rather fierce looking.”
“You know him? Yes?”
“Slightly.”
“Ah!” In spite of his patent indifference the Count was becoming interested. “It is curious that a man should wander about here in that fashion. What is your idea of his object? Is he really a sporting enthusiast?”
“He says so,” Galabin answered guardedly.
“Ah, it is singular,” Zarka observed meditatively. “You have seen much of him?”
“No, very little. We asked him to join us at luncheon one day.”
“So! And what opinion did you form of the mysterious one?”
Galabin laughed, as much at their visitor’s curiosity as the recollection of its object. “That he was the most inquisitive person I had ever had the honour to meet.”