appeared that the third member had chosen to dally a few moments over his
tobacco and a liqueur-brandy. Kirkwood could see him plainly, lounging in
his chair and fumbling the stem of a glass: a heavy man, of somber habit,
his black and sullen brows lowering and thoughtful above a face boldly
handsome.

The woman of the trio was worthy of closer attention. Some paces in the
wake of her lack-luster esquire, she was making a leisurely progress,
trailing the skirts of a gown magnificent beyond dispute, half concealed
though it was by the opera cloak whose soft folds draped her shoulders.
Slowly, carrying her head high, she approached, insolent eyes reviewing
the room from beneath their heavy lids; a metallic and mature type of dark
beauty, supremely selfconfident and self-possessed.

Men turned involuntarily to look after her, not altogether in undiluted
admiration.

In the act of passing behind the putative Calendar, she paused momentarily,
bending as if to gather up her train. Presumably the action disturbed her
balance; she swayed a little, and in the effort to recover, rested the tips
of her gloved fingers upon the edge of the table. Simultaneously (Kirkwood
could have sworn) a single word left her lips, a word evidently pitched
for the ear of the hypothetical Calendar alone. Then she swept on,
imperturbable, assured.

To the perplexed observer it was indubitably evident that some
communication had passed from the woman to the man. Kirkwood saw the fat
shoulders of the girl's companion stiffen suddenly as the woman's hand
rested at his elbow; as she moved away, a little rippling shiver was
plainly visible in the muscles of his back, beneath his coat--mute token