He was eating his omelette steadily, looking neither to the right nor to the left.
"Ami Fritz!" cried his wife, turning suddenly to him, and this time she spoke English, "Say, 'How d'you do,' to this lady! You will remember that we used to see 'er at Aix, in the Casino there ?" "Ami Fritz" bowed his head, but remained silent.
"Yes," his wife went on, volubly, "that sad affair made Aix very unpleasant to us! After that we spent the winter in various pensions, and then, instead of going back to Aix, we came 'ere.

So far, I am quite satisfied with Lacville." Though she spoke with a very bad accent and dropped her aitches, her English was quick and colloquial.
"Lacville is a cosy, 'appy place!" she cried, and this time she smiled full at Sylvia, and Sylvia told herself that the woman's face, if very plain, was like a sunflower,--so broad, so kindly, so good-humoured! When dejeuner was over, the four had coffee together, and the melancholy Monsieur Wachner, who was so curiously unlike his bright, vivacious wife, at last broke into eager talk, for he and Anna Wolsky had begun to discuss different gambling systems.

His face lighted up; it was easy to see what interested and stimulated this long, lanky man whose wife addressed him constantly as "Ami Fritz." "Now 'e is what the English call 'obby-'orse riding," she exclaimed, with a loud laugh.

"To see 'im in all 'is glory you should see my Fritz at Monte Carlo!" she was speaking to Sylvia.

"There 'as never been a system invented in connection with that devil-game, Roulette, that L'Ami Fritz does not know, and that 'e 'as not--at some time or other--played more to 'is satisfaction than to mine!" But she spoke very good-humouredly.