She felt very much moved, touched to the core of her heart.  She knew just as well as if he had told her why the Comte de Virieu had given up his evening’s play to-night.  He had left Lacville, and arranged to meet her in Paris the next day, in order that their names might not be coupled—­as would have certainly been the case if they had travelled together into Paris the next morning—­by M. Polperro and the good-natured, but rather vulgar Wachners.

As she turned and walked slowly through the Casino, moving as in a dream, Sylvia suddenly felt herself smartly tapped on the shoulder.

She turned round quickly—­then she smiled.  It was Madame Wachner.

“Why ’ave you not come before?” her friend exclaimed.  “Madame Wolsky is making such a sensation!  Come quick—­quick!” and she hurried the unresisting Sylvia towards the Club rooms.  “I come downstairs to see if I could find you,” went on Madame Wachner breathlessly.

What could be happening?  Sylvia felt the other’s excitement to be contagious.  As she entered the gambling room she saw that a large crowd was gathered round the centre Baccarat table.

“A party of young men out from Paris,” explained Madame Wachner in a low tone, “are throwing about their money.  It might have been terrible.  But no, it is a great piece of good fortune for Madame Wolsky!”

And still Sylvia did not understand.

They walked together up to the table, and then, with amazement and a curious feeling of fear clutching at her heart, Sylvia Bailey saw that Anna Wolsky was holding the Bank.

It was the first time she had ever seen a lady in the Banker’s seat.

A thick bundle of notes, on which were arranged symmetrical piles of gold lay in front of Madame Wolsky, and as was always the case when she was really excited, Anna’s face had become very pale, and her eyes glistened feverishly.

The play, too, was much higher than usual.  This was owing to the fact that at one end of the table there stood a little group of five young men in evening dress.  They talked and laughed as they flung their money on the green cloth, and seemed to enjoy the fact that they were the centre of attraction.

“One of them,” whispered Madame Wachner eagerly, “had already lost eight thousand francs when I went downstairs to look for you!  See, they are still losing.  Our friend has the devil’s own luck to-night!  I have forbidden L’Ami Fritz to play at all.  Nothing can stand against her.  She sweeps the money up every time.  If Fritz likes, he can go downstairs to the lower room and play.”

But before doing so L’Ami Fritz lingered awhile, watching Madame Wolsky’s wonderful run of luck with an expression of painful envy and greed on his wolfish countenance.

Sylvia went round to a point where she could watch Anna’s face.  To a stranger Madame Wolsky might have appeared almost indifferent; but there had come two spots of red on her cheeks, and the hand with which she raked up the money trembled.