“Haven’t I?” he answered, looking down at her. “I wish I hadn’t—I should be a rich man to-day.”
“Yes,” Jessica cut in with a curious laugh. “I have been told that years ago Captain Preston lost thousands on the turf and at cards.”
Yootha saw her lover make a little gesture of annoyance and at once she changed the subject.
At supper in the Casino they were joined by Stapleton and La Planta, who had disappeared while Yootha and Jessica were playing. When they were half-way through the meal, Yootha’s gaze became fixed on a man at supper with friends at a table close by. Presently she turned to Preston:
“I know that man so well by sight,” she said, “but can’t remember who he is, or where I have seen him before. Haven’t we both met him somewhere?”
Preston cast a hasty glance in the direction indicated. The person referred to was a sleek, well-nourished man with black, rather curly hair, and a carefully waxed moustache. Yes, he too had seen him before—but where?
And then all at once he remembered. He had not seen him before, but he had seen his portrait. It hung, quite a large picture, in Stothert’s office in the house with the bronze face.
He told Yootha so.
“So it does!” she exclaimed. “That is how I remember the face. I wonder who he is?”
“You wonder who he is?” Jessica inquired; she had overheard only the last sentence.