hen she suddenly exclaimed,

"Yes, I do know someone here after all! That funny-looking couple over
there were at Aix-les-Bains all last summer."

"Which people do you mean?" asked Sylvia eagerly.

"Don't you see that long, thin man who is so queerly dressed--and his
short, fat wife? A dreadful thing happened to them--a great friend of
theirs, a Russian, was drowned in Lac Bourget. It made a great deal of
talk in Aix at the time it happened."

Sylvia Bailey looked across the room. She was able to pick out in a
moment the people Anna meant, and perhaps because she was in good spirits
to-night, she smiled involuntarily at their rather odd appearance.

Standing just behind the _croupier_--whose task it is to rake in and to
deal out the money--was a short, stout, dark woman, dressed in a bright
purple gown, and wearing a pale blue bonnet particularly unbecoming to
her red, massive face. She was not paying much attention to the play,
though now and again she put a five-franc piece onto the green baize.
Instead, her eyes were glancing round restlessly this way and that,
almost as if she were seeking for someone.

Behind her, in strong contrast to herself, was a tall, thin, lanky man,
to Sylvia's English eyes absurdly as well as unsuitably dressed in a grey
alpaca suit and a shabby Panama hat. In his hand he held open a small
book, in which he noted down all the turns of the game. Unlike his short,
stout wife, this tall, thin man seemed quite uninterested in the people
about him, and Sylvia could see his lips moving, his brows frowning, as
if he were absorbed in some intricate and difficult calculation.

The couple looked different from the people about them; in a word, they
did not look French.

"The man--their name is Wachner--only plays on a system," whispered Anna.
"He is in fact what I call a System Maniac. That is why he keeps noting
down the turns in his little book. That sort of gambler ought never to
leave Monte Carlo. It is only at Monte Carlo--that is to say, at
Roulette--that such a man ever gets a real chance of winning anything.
I should have expected them to belong to the Club, and not to trouble
over this kind of play!"

Even as she spoke, Anna slightly inclined her head, and the woman at whom
they were both looking smiled broadly, showing her strong white teeth as
she did so; and then, as her eyes travelled from Anna Wolsky to Anna's
companion, they became intent and questioning.

Madame Wachner, in