fifteen francs!"

Sylvia Bailey's lip quivered; she felt a wild wish to burst out
laughing. It was all so absurd; this funny queer house; this odd, stuffy,
empty-looking room; and this vulgar, common-looking woman asserting that
she was descended from the famous Count Cagliostro! And then, to crown
everything, the naïve, rather pathetic, attempt to get an extra five
francs out of them.

But Sylvia was a very kindly, happy-natured creature, and she would not
have hurt the feelings of even a Madame Cagliostra for the world.

She looked at her friend questioningly. Would it not be better just to
give the woman five francs and go away? They surely could not expect to
hear anything of any value from such a person. She was evidently a fraud!

But Anna Wolsky was staring at Madame Cagliostra with a serious look.

"Very well," she exclaimed, in her rather indifferent French. "Very well!
We will both take the Grand Jeu at fifteen francs the two."

She turned and smiled at Sylvia. "It will be," she said, quaintly, and in
English, "my 'treat,' dear friend." And then, as Sylvia shook her head
decidedly--there were often these little contests of generosity between
the two women--she added rather sharply,

"Yes, yes! It shall be so. I insist! I see you do not believe in our
hostess's gift. There are, however, one or two questions I must ask, and
to which I fancy she can give me an answer. I am anxious, too, to hear
what she will say about _you_."