If she had chanced to
raise her veil no earthly persuasions on her part would have secured for
her the freedom of that little room, for Monsieur Albert's appreciation
of likeness was equal to his memory for faces. But it was not until she
was comfortably ensconced at a corner table, from which she had a good
view of the room, that she did so, and Monsieur Albert realized with a
philosophic shrug of the shoulders the error he had committed.
Phyllis looked about her with some curiosity. It was too early for the
habitues of the place, and most of the tables were empty. The
scarlet-coated band were smoking cigarettes, and had not yet produced
their instruments. The conductor curled his black moustache and stared
hard at the beautiful young English lady, without, however, being able
to attract a single glance in return. One or two men also tried to
convey to her by smiles and glances the fact that her solitude need
continue no longer than she chose. The unattached ladies put their heads
together and discussed her with little peals of laughter. To all of
these things she remained indifferent. She ordered a supper which she
ate mechanically, and wine which she scarcely drank.
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