gratings, of white-coated servants and free food and drink, had
passed away with "reform." Here was a remarkable new phase of
sporting life which had gradually taken its place.

Constance had been looking about curiously in the meantime. On a
table she saw copies of the newspapers which published full accounts
of the races, something that looked like a racing sheet, and a
telephone conveniently located near writing materials. It was a
poolroom, too, then, in the daytime, she reasoned.

Surely, in the next room, when the light was on, she saw what looked
like a miniature roulette wheel, not one of the elaborate affairs of
bright metal and ebony, but one of those that can almost be packed
into a suitcase and carried about easily.

That was the secret of the flashily dressed men and women who called
on Bella LeMar. They were risking everything, perhaps even honor
itself, on a turn of a wheel, the fall of a card, a guess on a
horse.

Why had Bella LeMar invited her here? she asked herself.

At first Constance was a little bit afraid that she might have
plunged into too deep water. She made up her mind to quit when her
losses reached a certain nominal point. But they did not reach it.
Perhaps the gamblers were too clever. But Constance seemed always to
keep just a little bit ahead of the game.

One person in particular in the group interested her as she
endeavored intuitively to take their measure. It was Haddon Halsey,