Tommy looked pleased again; he was very bent upon introducing Spencer to his beautiful young friend. It would come about presently: if not here, in the lounge. Already, Mrs. L'Estrange had sent a few covert glances in the direction of their table. There was little doubt she knew who his companion was, and would be quite pleased to number him amongst her acquaintance.
"Has Miss Keane many admirers? She should have," remarked Spencer presently. He noticed that Esmond's eyes were always turned in the direction of that particular table.
"Not any serious ones, I fancy. A few young fellows send her flowers, but nothing more. It is quite an unsuitable ménage for a girl of her attractions. The majority of the habitués are middle-aged men who go there simply to gamble. The few young ones come for a flutter, and disappear when they have had enough."
"Does the young lady play?"
"I have never seen her. She has told me scores of times that she loathes gambling. Her father ruined himself by it. I believe she is really very unhappy there. And I gather Mrs. L'Estrange has not the best of tempers, particularly when she has had bad luck."
"Hobson's choice, I expect," suggested Spencer sympathetically. Miss Keane was facing him, giving him ample opportunity to examine the beautiful countenance, and it struck him that there was an underlying expression of sadness on the perfect features, especially when in repose.
"I fear so," was Esmond's answer. "She is very reticent about her own affairs, as any gentlewoman would be. But from certain things she has let drop, I make out her own means are very slender, and her cousin's hospitality is a boon to her."
Half an hour passed, and Spencer lit a big cigar. The two men chatted on various topics. Mrs. L'Estrange and the Colonel were still doing full justice to the excellent dishes offered them. Miss Keane was apparently satisfied, and sat quietly watching her companions, and throwing in an occasional remark.
And suddenly came the loud sound of maroons. Everybody started. A few seconds later the clamour and roaring of our own guns burst forth. There was no doubt as to what was happening. The Germans were making one of their unwelcome visits.
"By heavens, it's a raid, and we are in the thick of it," cried Tommy Esmond, rising excitedly. He was a nervous little man, and his face had grown a shade pale at the sound of the first boom.