Hullo! What have we here ?" The photograph showed Victoire in her Sunday best, and with her a boy of seventeen or eighteen.

Guerchard's eyes glued themselves to the face of the boy.

He stared at it, holding the portrait now nearer, now further off.

His eyes kept stealing covertly from the photograph to the face of the Duke.
The Duke caught one of those covert glances, and a vague uneasiness flickered in his eyes.

Guerchard saw it.