They knew each other slightly, and they bowed.

Philip frowned.

He saw that something had occurred between the two.

Detricand on his part realised the significance of that familiar "Guida!" called from outside.

He took up his cap.
"It is greeting and good-bye, I am just off for France," he said.
Philip eyed him coldly, and not a little maliciously, for he knew Detricand's reputation well, the signs of a hard life were thick on him, and he did not like to think of Guida being alone with him.
"France should offer a wide field for your talents just now," he answered drily; "they seem wasted here." Detricand's eye flashed, but he answered coolly: "It wasn't talent that brought me here, but a boy's folly; it's not talent that's kept me from starving here, I'm afraid, but the ingenuity of the desperate." "Why stay here?
The world was wide, and France but a step away.