"I have taken more money from you than I meant to, already, Mr.
Draconmeyer," she protested. "Does Linda know how much you have lent
me?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"What is the use of telling her? She does not understand. She has never
felt the gambling fever, the joy of it, the excitement. She would not be
strong enough. You and I understand. I have felt it in the money-markets
of the world, where one plays with millions, where a mistake might mean
ruin. That is why the tables seem dull for me, but all the same it comes
home to me."

She felt the fierce stimulus of anxious thought. She knew very well that
notwithstanding his quiet manner, she had reason to fear the man who sat
by her side. She feared his self-restraint, she feared the light which
sometimes gleamed in his eyes when he fancied himself unobserved. He
gave her no cause for complaint. All the time his behaviour had been
irreproachable. And yet she felt, somehow or other, like a bird who is
being hunted by a trapper, a trapper who knows his business, who goes
about it with quiet confidence, with absolute certainty. There was
something like despair in her heart.

"Well, I suppose I shall have to stay here," she said, "and I can't stay
here without playing. I will take a thousand more, if you will lend it
to me."

"You shall have it directly we get to the hotel," he told her. "Don't
hurry with the cheques, and don't date them too soon. Remember that you
must have something to live on when you get back."

"I am going to win," she declared confidently. "I am going to win enough
to pay you back every penny."

"I won't say that I hope not," he observed, "for your sake, but it will
certainly give me no pleasure to have the money back again. You are such
a wonderful person," he added, dropping his voice, "that I rather like
to feel that I can be a little useful to you."

They had neared the end of their journey and Mr. Draconmeyer touched her
arm. A faint smile was playing about his lips. Certainly the fates were
befriending him! He said nothing, but her eyes followed the slight
motion of his head. Coming down the steps from Ciro's were her husband
and Felicia Roche. Violet looked at them for a moment. Then she turned
her head away.

"Most inopportune," she sighed, with a little attempt at gaiety. "Shall
we meet later at the Club?"

"Assuredly," Mr. Draconmeyer replied. "I will send the money to your
room."

"Thank you once more," she said, "and