he barrier of faces that pressed close against my
chair cut off all who stood further back. The wheel raced; the ball
danced madly about its rim; the crowd stood bating its breath; and the
scattered piles of gold lay in doubt on the green baize diagram.

It was over. The croupier sang out the winning number, column and
combinations. The rake was extended to push over to me a fairly imposing
pile of French gold. I was conscious of coming in for more than my
individual share of interest. Luck had been with me, and at Monte Carlo,
the lucky man is the man of moment. But the sense of some personality
above the many personalities was now borne in upon me with irritating
force. I was impatient to rise and push back my chair and look about me,
but as I attempted to do so, the men and women whose capital I had
increased raised a chorus of remonstrance. I reluctantly resumed the
place which I had been about to abdicate and once more laid out my
stake. This time I pushed the entire pile out onto the green cloth in a
pyramid on the black. I knew if I lost it they would willingly surrender
my services. Even at that cost I wanted freedom.

For, in the moment that I had been standing there, I had caught a
glimpse of a retreating figure, which disappeared through the door,
almost at the instant that my eyes identified it. It was the figure of a
woman in evening-dress, or rather, I should say, of _the_ woman in
evening-dress. There was the same graceful majesty of bearing, the same
slim grace--and the same averted face. But because I wished to leave the
table fortune pursued me. Spin after spin doubled, tripled, quadrupled
my swelling pile of money. Finally I told them that I would remain for
three more tests of chance--but no more. I could hardly abandon these
enthused men and women without warning, but as soon as I had fulfilled
the obligation, I rose, and I fear there was more of precipitate haste
than of courtesy in my manner of shouldering my way through the press of
onlookers, to the door and the wonderful embroidery of flower beds
before the casino. Eyes followed me, for my luck had held and I was a
momentary sensation. It was still early, as hours go in a place where
the major activity belongs to night life, and for two hours I haunted
the cafes and boulevards without result. The next day proved equally
fruitless, but that night, as I was idling with my after-dinner cigar,
along the Boulevard de Condemine, I saw strolling at so