Neither of them imposed upon me the necessity for conversation. I had,
therefore, plenty of time to look around me, and take note of the people
in whom I was interested.
They were all seated together, at a small table in the far corner of the
saloon. At the head of that table was a man whom I had not yet seen, but
whom I at once knew to be Mr. de Valentin. He was tall, rather sallow,
with a pointed, black beard, and he continually wore an eyeglass, set in
a horn rim, with a narrow, black ribbon. On his right was the woman to
whom Adele had spoken upon the stairs. She wore a plain but elegant
dinner-gown of some dark material. She was exquisitely coiffured, and
obviously turned out by a perfectly trained maid. There were two girls at
the table, whom I judged to be her daughters, and--Adele.
Adele was seated so that I could see only her profile. I noticed,
however, that she seemed to be eating little, and to be taking but a very
small part in the conversation. Once or twice she leaned back in her
chair, and looked round the saloon as though in search of some one.
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