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For a while there was silence; then a gentleman near the squire's end of the table asked his next neighbour, "What sort of a looking man was this same mimic? I believe you were at Lady Gambit's." "Yes, I was there," replied the other. "I can't say much in his favour. He was not a bad-looking fellow, black hair, if it was his own, black piercing eyes, and a black beard.
"Were you at Lady Gambit's garden-party last Tuesday, Mr Walter?" "No," he replied; "I was not there." "Then I can tell you that you missed a treat," said the other. "Why, what was the special attraction?" he asked. "Oh, everything that you can imagine!" "Well, I can imagine so many things," said Walter laughing, "that I am quite sure her ladyship's garden could never have held them all.
I can't imagine where her ladyship picked him up." "But I can," said a gentleman opposite. "He is some strolling player. He got, it would seem, access to Lady Gambit's ear in some underhand way; and he has done now what our young friend Walter suggested a little while ago that he might as well have done sooner.
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