"I'll bet you a fiver they bolt to-night--by the train _des decaves_." "I don't want to bet about it," said Lord Crosland very gloomily.
Their talk made Tinker thoughtful.

It would have been easy enough to settle the matter by revealing Courtnay's injudicious display of affection towards Madame de Belle-Ile, but that was not Tinker's way.
He had a passion for keeping things in his own hands, and a pretty eye for dramatic possibilities.

Besides, he had taken a great dislike to Courtnay, and was eager to make his discomfiture signal.
At half-past four in the afternoon he knocked at the door of Madame de Belle-Ile's suite of rooms, and her maid conducted so prominent a figure in Monte Carlo society straight to her mistress.
Madame de Belle-Ile, having just changed from a bright scarlet costume into a brighter, was taking her afternoon tea before returning to the tables.
"Bonjour, Monsieur le Vaurien," she said with a bright smile.

"Have you at last succeeded in gambling ?" "No; it would be no pleasure to me to gamble unless your bright eyes were shining on the table," said Tinker with a happy recollection of a compliment he had overheard.
"Farceur! Va!" said the lady with a pleased smile.
"I came to ask if you would like to sup with Mr.Courtnay to-night ?" said the unscrupulous Tinker.
"Ah, le bel Artur!" cried the lady.

"But with pleasure.