them both and then at me. "This gentleman is a friend of yours?"

"Certainly," Mr. Parker replied. "I won't introduce you, but I'll answer
for him."

"You would like to play?"

"I will play, certainly," Mr. Parker answered cheerfully. "My friend will
watch--for the present, at any rate."

He waved us away, himself taking a seat at the table. I led Eve to a divan
at the farther corner of the room. We sat there and watched the people.
There were many whose faces I knew--a sprinkling of stock-brokers, one or
two actresses, and half a dozen or so men about town of a dubious type. On
the whole the company was scarcely reputable. I looked at Eve and sighed.

"Well, what is it?" she asked.

"This is no sort of place for you, you know," I ventured.

"Here it comes," she laughed; "the real, hidebound, respectable
Englishman! I tell you I like it. I like the life; I like the light and
shade of it all. I should hate your stiff English country houses, your
highly moral amusements, and your dull day-by-day life. Look at those
people's faces as they bend over the table!"

"Well, I am looking at them," I told her. "I see nothing but greed. I see
no face that has not already lost a great part of its attractiveness."

"Perhaps!" she replied indifferently. "I will grant you that greed is the