Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me.
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