For some time after Lenox had gone there was much excitement at the Capucines. But gradually the excitement wore itself out, as excitement always does. Baccarat for that night, at least, had lost its allurement. The habitués dispersed, some to other clubs, some to their homes, and soon the great rooms were deserted by all, save one deaf man, who, undisturbed by the commotion, had given himself up to the task of memorizing Sarcey’s feuilleton. Among the earliest to leave was Mr. Incoul. “Come,” he said to Blydenburg, “you have seen enough for one evening,” and Blydenburg got into his coat and followed his companion to the street. They walked some distance before either of them spoke, but when they reached the hotel at which Blydenburg was stopping, that gentleman halted at an adjacent lamp-post. “I must say, Incoul,” he began, “and I hope you will take it very kindly--I must say that I think you might have left that matter for some one else to discover. Why, hang it all! Leigh is a friend of your wife’s; you know all his people; to you the money was nothing. Really, Incoul, damn me if I don’t think it hard-hearted. I don’t care that for what those frog-eaters say; the cards you said were marked, don’t weigh with me in the least; no, not an atom; it is my opinion that the young man was just as innocent as a child unborn. No, sir, you can’t make me believe that he--that he--I hate to say the word--that he cheated. Why, man alive! I had my eyes on him the whole time. A better-looking fellow never breathed, and he just chucked out the cards one after another without so much as looking at them; it seemed to me that he didn’t care a rap whether he won or lost. I put down a louis or two myself, and he never noticed it; he left the whole thing to the croupier, and now that I come to think of it--” “Yes, I know,” Mr. Incoul interrupted. “I am sorry myself.” “Well then I’ll be shot if you look so. Good night to you,” and with that Blydenburg stamped up to the hotel, rang the bell, and slammed the door behind him. Mr. Incoul walked on. The annoyance of his friend affected him like a tonic; he continued his way refreshed. Presently he reached a cab stand. The clock marked 11.50. He had other duties, and he let himself into an Urbaine and told the man to drive to the Parc Monceau. On arriving he tossed a coin to the cabby and entered the house.