people, the middle-aged man who had been with Anna when Sylvia had first
seen her just now hurried up to them.

"Everything is arranged, Madame!" he exclaimed. "Here is your membership
card. May I have the pleasure of taking you myself to the Club? Your
friend can come too. She does not want to play, does she?"

He looked inquisitively at Sylvia, and his hard face softened. He had
your true Frenchman's pleasure in charm and beauty. "Madame, or is it
Mademoiselle?--"

"Madame!" answered Anna, smiling.

"--Madame can certainly come in and look on for a few moments, even
though she be not a member of the Club."

They turned and followed him up a broad, shallow staircase, into a part
of the Casino where the very atmosphere seemed different from that
surrounding the public gaming tables.

Here, in the Club, all was hushed and quiet, and underfoot was a thick
carpet.

There were very few people in the Baccarat Room, some twelve men, and
four or five ladies who were broken up into groups, and talking with one
another in the intimate, desultory fashion in which people talk who meet
daily in pursuit of some common interest or hobby.

And then, all at once, Sylvia Bailey saw that among them, but standing a
little apart, was the Count--was not his name de Virieu?