Helen was observing one of the men intently.

He was a lean, somewhat cadaverous man of about her own age, whose profile was turned to them, and he was the partner of a highly-coloured girl, obviously English by birth.
Suddenly, in the strange way in which some words detach themselves from the rest, they heard him say quite distinctly:-- "All you want is practice, Miss Warrington; courage and practice--one's no good without the other." "Hughling Elliot! Of course!" Helen exclaimed.

She ducked her head immediately, for at the sound of his name he looked up.

The game went on for a few minutes, and was then broken up by the approach of a wheeled chair, containing a voluminous old lady who paused by the table and said:-- "Better luck to-night, Susan ?" "All the luck's on our side," said a young man who until now had kept his back turned to the window.

He appeared to be rather stout, and had a thick crop of hair.
"Luck, Mr.Hewet ?" said his partner, a middle-aged lady with spectacles.
"I assure you, Mrs.Paley, our success is due solely to our brilliant play." "Unless I go to bed early I get practically no sleep at all," Mrs.Paley was heard to explain, as if to justify her seizure of Susan, who got up and proceeded to wheel the chair to the door.
"They'll get some one else to take my place," she said cheerfully.