Hannaford stood shoulder to shoulder with Carleton, who nodded and
spoke. "I wish we could get her to stop! I've tried--came over from the
Sporting Club on purpose, but she won't listen to me."

"We can't do anything with her at the table," said Hannaford.

"Norwood told me she was losing a lot, and I ran across from the
Sporting Club," Dick went on. "No good, I suppose, as you say. One can't
keep whispering a stream of good advice down the back of people's necks.
Only a very special kind of an ass tries that twice: but still, I did
hope----"

"Yes, there's that 'but still' feeling, isn't there?" Hannaford smiled
his tired smile, that never brightened. "I was going to cut it, because
she was getting on my nerves a bit. But I've come back to hang around,
as you're doing, and try the effect of will power, though I'm afraid it
won't work."

"It seems a vile table," Dick remarked.

"It's got a grudge against Miss Grant apparently, but it was all right
for me till I began to get nervy, watching her lose."

"You won?"

"Yes, and felt a beast--as if I were taking her money. Whenever I was on
one colour, she seemed always to choose a number on the other. I've got
enough money to buy my villa now, thanks to this night's work; so I
shall consider it a Christmas gift from the dear old Casino."

"Hurrah!" said Dick, his eyes always on the table and Mary's play. "I'm
glad some one's in luck, anyhow." He had heard from Rose Winter, and
from Hannaford himself, of the negotiations for Madame Rachel Berenger's
place just across the Italian frontier. Every one knew of her wild play
at the Casino and of her losses, which were now so great that she wished
to sell the old chateau which she had bought after her retirement from
the stage; and Hannaford's friends were aware that for some months he
had been quietly bargaining for it. His ambition was to buy the place
out of his winnings, but until to-night they had not reached the price
asked by the old actress. Twenty years ago she had paid two hundred
thousand francs for the huge house, almost in ruin. Later she had spent
nearly as much again in restoring it, and creating a garden which for a
while had been the marvel of the coast. Long ago, however, it had gone
back to wilderness. The splendid furniture imported by Madame Berenger
from the palace of an impoverished Bourbon princess had lost its gilding
and its rich brocade of silk and velvet. Two discouraged servants
remained with