H. Bedford-Jones

“ At this juncture came the letter from Hué and Michael Paléologue. Both were agents of fate.
Kent followed his new friend to one of the terraces overlooking St. Andrew's Road and Raffles Plain. Out beyond, over Connaught Drive, with its sweeping trees and croquet-wire fencing, glittered the waters of the harbor. Here, at a table in a pleasant corner, he was introduced to two other men. One of them was a Frenchman—or rather a Provençal—Davignan by name. An immense fat fellow this, with cherubic, smiling features, trim black mustache and napoleon; a cordial and impressive person. ”

“ Paléologue introduced Kent as the famous ethnologist, and from the man's gay manner Kent let the joke pass. Boston had endowed him with a broad "a" which often made men think him English.
From the very start, Kent's cards were abominable, his luck worse. The stakes were high enough to surprise him, but he was game. He passed into the reckless, defiant mood of the man who gambles.
Aside from this, he was interested in the two men, Paléologue and Davignan. They seemed to be engaged in a merry game of war under the surface—a gay defiance, a mutual challenge; yet outwardly they were very friendly. ”