"Yes," said Sylvia, "but do not forget"--she spoke with a certain
gravity; death was a very real thing to her, for she had seen in the last
two years two deathbeds, that of her father, that of her husband--"do not
forget, Anna, that she told you you would not live long if you went
away."

"She was quite safe in saying that to me," replied the other hastily.
"People who play--those who get the gambling fever into their system when
they are still young--do not, as a rule, live very long. Their emotions
are too strong, too often excited! Play should be reserved for the
old--the old get so quickly deadened, they do not go through the terrible
moments younger people do!"




CHAPTER III


On the morning after her visit to Madame Cagliostra, Sylvia Bailey woke
later than usual. She had had a disturbed night, and it was pleasant to
feel that she could spend a long restful day doing nothing, or only
taking part in one of the gay little expeditions which make Paris to
a stranger the most delightful of European capitals.

She opened wide both the windows of her room, and from outside there
floated in a busy, happy murmur, for Paris is an early city, and nine
o'clock there is equivalent to eleven o'clock in London.