“Hush!” she whispered, glancing round. “Somebody will hear. Everything is gossiped about in this place.”
“Well, will you meet me?” the young man persisted.
“If I can,” she sighed. “If they are both playing baccarat, I may slip out for a little.”
“As at Spa.”
She smiled, and a slight flush came into her cheeks.
“Yes, as at Spa. Wait for me on the plage at the bottom of the Casino steps. Now I must go to my mother. She would not like to see me talking to you.”
“The princess hates me like poison. Do you know why?”
“No, and you are not going to tell me,” she said, demurely. “Au revoir.”
When she had passed out of earshot, Ross touched the young man’s arm.
“I’m afraid, my dear Somerset, you are playing a particularly silly fool’s game.”