The cellar at the Hôtel de Paris was as famous as was its cuisine. Françoise Blanc had not forgotten that a man who has dined and wined well makes a better gambler from the Casino’s viewpoint than one who is frugal and therefore inclined to be cautious.

‘And now,’ Sir Robert said, turning to his guests, ‘tell me all the local gossip. I drove over to Nice today and therefore I am out of touch with the latest excitements.

‘I don’t believe there are any,’ Lady Violet replied. ‘Have you heard anything, Arthur?’

Lord Drayton shook his head.

‘I have entered myself for the pigeon shooting contest tomorrow afternoon, and find to my chagrin that they are offering 10 to 1 against my chances. It is very humiliating for a man who believed himself to be a good shot.’

Lady Violet laughed.

‘Oh, poor Arthur! But I should feel furious, not humiliated, and should make up my mind to win just to spite all the popular favourites.’

‘It is those Austrian sportsmen,’ he grumbled. They are too good for most of us.’

‘Do you mean to say that nothing has happened while I have been away?’ Sir Robert enquired. ‘No new arrival to cause a sensation, no – ?’

He stopped in the middle of the sentence. His eyes were turned towards the far end of the room. Because of the expression on his face both Lady Violet and Lord Drayton looked in the same direction. Other people were doing the same thing.

Two women had come in and were at that moment being led by Alfonse across the room to a table in the far corner. Sir Robert had noticed that it was about the only table left empty in the whole dining room. It was a table for two by the window, the heavy satin curtains forming a background for the simple white flowers with which the table was decorated. It was the furthest table from the door and to reach it the two women must cross the full length of the room and endure the stares of everyone present,

It was almost impossible not to stare, however well bred, however disinterested in strangers one might be, for the two women were a very arresting sight.

The elder, obviously the chaperone of the one that followed, was tall and distinguished in appearance. She held herself superbly and moved as if she was alone in her own drawing room and no one else were present. In a dress of deep purple velvet with an almost regal appearance, she wore a cap of velvet ribbon and real lace over her grey hair.

But no one wasted a second glance on the older women, it was the younger at whom everyone looked and continued to look until she had reached her table.