While this conversation was going on, Ezra and his friend were smoking quietly in a corner of the room chatting about the opera, when the Jew suddenly drew Keith's attention to a tall man talking to a friend in a confidential manner. He had a thin, sharp-looking face, keen blue eyes, and fair hair and beard. "That gentleman," said Lazarus, "could probably tell you something about those diamonds, he is an American called Hiram Jackson Fenton, manager of the 'Never-say-die Life Insurance Company.' Rumour--which is true in this case, contrary to its usual custom--says he is Caprice's latest fancy." "He must have a lot of money to satisfy her whims," said Keith, looking at the American. "Money!" Ezra shrugged his shoulders. "He hasn't much actual cash, for he lives far above his income. However, with a little judicious dabbling in the share market, and an occasional help from the children of Israel, he manages to get along all right. Our friend Caprice will ruin him shortly, and then he'll return to the Great Republic, I presume--good riddance of bad rubbish for Australia." "And who is that colourless-looking little man who has just come up?" "He is rather washed out, isn't he?" said Ezra critically. "That is his assistant manager, Evan Malton. For some inexplicable reason they are inseparable." "Oh, and is Mr. Malton also smitten with Caprice." "Very badly--more shame to him, as he's only been married for twelve months--he neglects his young wife, and dances attendance at the heels of his divinity." "Doesn't Hiram J--what's his name, object?" "Not at all. You see they're both mixed up in speculation, and work together for their mutual benefit. Malton is the Lazarus--I don't mean myself--who picks up the crumbs of love that fall from Mr. Dives Fenton's table." "It can't last long," said Keith in disgust. "It will last till Malton gets rid of Fenton, or Fenton gets the better of Malton--then there'll be a row, and the weakest will go to the wall. Tell me, whom do you think will win?" "I should say Fenton," replied Keith, glancing from the effeminate countenance of Malton to the shrewd, powerful face of the American. "Exactly; he is, I fancy, the stronger villain of the two." "Villain?" "Yes; I call any man a villain who neglects his wife for the sake of a light-o'-love. As for Fenton, he is the most unscrupulous man I know." "You seem to be pretty well acquainted with the scandal of Melbourne society," said Stewart as they went back to their seats. "Of course, it is my duty; the press is ubiquitous. But tell me your opinion of Caprice?" "Judging by her acting to-night, she's a devil." "Wait till the end of this act, and you'll swear she's an angel." "Which will be correct?" "Both--she's a mixture!"