Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. Shall I bring off anything?" he added, looking eagerly round. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. . But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further.
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