"The Villa du Lac? I have heard of it, but surely it's an extremely
expensive hotel? The place I've chosen for myself is farther away from
the Casino; but the distance will force me to take a walk every day, and
that will be a very good thing. Last time I was at Monte Carlo I had a
lodging right up in Monaco, and I found that a very much healthier plan
than to live close to the Casino," Anna spoke quite seriously. "The
Pension Malfait is really extraordinarily cheap for a place near Paris.
I am only going to pay fifty-five francs a week, _tout compris_!"

They had now turned from the road encircling the lake, and were driving
through leafy avenues which reminded Sylvia of a London suburb where she
had once stayed.

The châlets and villas by which they passed were not so large nor so
prosperous-looking as those that bordered the lake, but still many of
them were pretty and fantastic-looking little houses, and the gardens
were gay with flowers.

"I suppose no one lives here in the winter!" said Sylvia suddenly.

She had noticed, for in some ways she was very observant though in other
ways strangely unseeing, that all the flowers were of the bedding-out
varieties; there were luxuriant creepers, but not a single garden that
she passed had that indefinable look of being an old or a well-tended
garden.

"In the winter? Why, in the winter Lacville is an absolute desert," said
Anna laughing. "You see, the Casino only has a summer Concession; it
cannot open till April 15. Of course there are people who will tell you
that Lacville is the plague-pit of Paris, but that's all nonsense!