or the night that most of the
sojourners at Weet-sur-Mer existed; it was for them, in turn, that the
place itself existed! With these worthies, the first serious business of
the day was dressing for dinner. As darkness came, a stir of life
thrilled through the place from end to end. Rows and clusters of
electric lights, many-sized and many-coloured, flashed out at the
Casino, in the hotels, along the Digue. Women donned their evening
gowns, thankful for handsome shoulders; got out their diamonds, real
and paste, their rouge, cosmetics, what not; prepared to go forth and
conquer, to play the old, old game which, by the calm light of the
morning, seems so flat and savourless! Oh, what would it be without wine
and lights and jewels and soft gowns, without warmth and music and
perfume, without the suggestive, sensual darkness closing it in!

At the Casino presently spins the wheel of fortune--named in very
mockery!--and it is there that one may gaze unrebuked into the most
alluring eyes, may see the reddest lips and whitest shoulders;--creme de
la creme of all in that smaller room upstairs, arranged for those whose
jaded appetites demand some extra tickling; where no wager may be laid
for less than a hundred francs, and for as much more as you please,
monsieur, madame, provided only that you have it with you! Too bad that
the immortal soul has no longer a money value, or how many would
ornament that crowded table in the course of an evening's play!

But there; let a single glimpse of this tawdry, perfumed, fevered hell
suffice us, even as it did Archibald Rushford on the first night of his
stay at Weet-sur-Mer, and let us go out, as he did, into the pure night,
and stand uncovered under the bright stars until the cool breeze from
the ocean has washed us clean again, and turning our backs forever upon
the Casino and its habitues, retrace our steps along the Digue to the
Grand Hotel Royal.

In apartment A de luxe, a man with flushed face and rumpled hair was
stamping nervously up and down. It required a second glance to recognise
in him that usually well-groomed and self-possessed individual known as
Lord Vernon. Two others were watching his movements with scarcely
concealed anxiety--Collins leaning against the window with folded arms,
Blake seated at a table with an open despatch-box before him.

"Hang it all, fellows," he was saying, "don't you see what a pickle it
puts me in? I was a fool to fall in with the idea--I was