"Have you heard of a mascot?" she said abruptly. "Of a mascot which
brings good fortune to its wearer?"

Sylvia bent her head. Of course she had heard of mascots.

"Well, if so, you have, of course, heard of objects which bring
misfortune to their wearers--which are, so to speak, unlucky mascots?"

And this time it was Anna Wolsky who, leaning forward, nodded gravely.
She attributed a run of bad luck she had had the year before to a
trifling gift, twin cherries made of enamel, which a friend had given
her, in her old home, on her birthday. Till she had thrown that little
brooch into the sea, she had been persistently unlucky at play.

"Your friend," murmured Madame Cagliostra, now addressing herself to
Anna and not to Sylvia, "should dispossess herself as quickly as possible
of her necklace, of these round balls. They have already brought her
ill-fortune in the past, they have lowered her in the estimation of an
estimable person--in fact, if she is not very careful, indeed, even if
she be very careful--it looks to me, Madame, as if they would end by
strangling her!"

Sylvia became very uncomfortable. "Of course she means my pearls," she
whispered. "But how absurd to say they could ever do me harm."

"Look here," said Anna Wolsky earnestly, "you are quite right, Madame;
my friend has a necklace which has already played a certain part in her
life. But is it not just because of this fact that you feel the influence
of this necklace so strongly? I entreat you to speak frankly. You are