DANGEROUS PLAY I leaned towards Louis, but he anticipated my question.

His hand had caught my wrist and was pinning it down to the table.
"Wait!" he muttered--"wait! You perceive that we are drinking wine of the vintage of '98.

I will tell you of my trip to the vineyards.

Do not look at that man as though his appearance was anything remarkable.

You are not an habitue here, and he will take notice of you." As one who speaks upon the subject most interesting to him, Louis, with the gestures and swift, nervous diction of his race, talked to me of the vineyards and the cellars of the famous champagne house whose wine we were drinking.