Here, in the Club, all was hushed and quiet, and underfoot was a thick
carpet.
There were very few people in the Baccarat Room, some twelve men, and
four or five ladies who were broken up into groups, and talking with one
another in the intimate, desultory fashion in which people talk who meet
daily in pursuit of some common interest or hobby.
And then, all at once, Sylvia Bailey saw that among them, but standing a
little apart, was the Count--was not his name de Virieu?
He turned round, and as he saw her she thought that a look of surprise,
almost of annoyance, flitted over his impassive face. Then he moved away
from where he could see her.
A peculiar-looking old gentleman, who seemed on kindly terms with
everyone in the room, pulled a large turnip watch out of his pocket. "It
is nearly half-past one!" he exclaimed fussily. "Surely, it is time that
we began! Who takes the Bank to-day?"
"I will," said the Comte de Virieu, coming forward.
Five minutes later play was in full swing. Sylvia did not in the least
understand the game of Baccarat, and she would have been surprised indeed
had she been told that the best account of it ever written is that which
describes it as "neither a recreation nor an intellectual exercise, but
simply a means for the rapid exchange of money well suited to persons of
impatient temperament.
Pages:
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75