His eyes entreated her gaily. They were extremely charming eyes, of some
subtly blended colour that was neither slate nor violet, but partook a
little of both, and shaded by absurdly long lashes which gave them an
almost womanish softness. A certain shrewd old duchess, who knew her world,
had once been heard to observe that Tony Brabazon's eyes would get him in
and out of trouble as long as he lived.

Ann smiled.

"That's quite a brain-wave, Tony," she replied. "I won't say no. And if
you're very good we'll go down to the Kursaal afterwards, and I'll let
you have a little innocent flutter at the tables." Ann had no belief in
the use of too severe a curb. She felt quite sure that if Tony's gambling
propensities were bottled up too tightly, they would only break out more
strongly later on--when he might chance to be in a part of the world where
he could come to bigger grief financially than was possible at Montricheux.
She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and, seeing that the time had
slipped by more quickly than she imagined, proceeded to gather up her
gloves. "I think it's time I went back to Villa Mon Reve, now," she said
tentatively, fearing a burst of opposition.

But, having got his own way over the arrangements for the morrow, Tony
consented to be amenable for once. Together they took their way up the
pleasant street and at the gates of the villa he made his farewells.

"I shall drop into the club for a rubber, I think," he vouchsafed, "before
going home like a good little boy."

"Don't play high," cautioned Ann good-humouredly.