CHAPTER XXXIII
A HAND IN THE GAME
The diners at the Hôtel Splendide were a little surprised to see the tall, distinguished-looking Englishman leave his seat and accost with quiet deference the elder of the two women, whose entrance a few minutes before had occasioned a good many not very flattering comments. The lady who called herself Blanche meant to make the most of her opportunity.
"Fancy meeting you here," she remarked. "Flo, this is a friend of mine. Mrs. Harrigod! Gentleman's name doesn't matter, does it?" she added, laughing.
Wrayson bowed, and murmured something inaudible. Blanche's friend regarded him with unconcealed and flattering approval.
"Over here for a little flutter, I suppose?" she remarked. "It is so hot in town we had to get away somewhere. Are you alone with your friends?"
"Quite alone," Wrayson answered. "We are only staying for a day or two."
The lady nodded.
"We shall stay for a week if we like it," she said. "If not, we shall go on to Dieppe. Did you get my letter?"
"Letter!" Wrayson repeated. "No! Have you written to me?"
She nodded.
"I wrote to you a week ago."
