Sylvia grew very red.
As a matter of fact, it had been Madame Wachner who had suggested that
idea to her. Only the day before, when Sylvia had been wondering for
the thousandth time where Anna could be, the older woman had exclaimed
meaningly, "I should not be surprised if that Count de Virieu persuaded
your friend to go away. He wants the field clear for himself."
And then she had seemed to regret her imprudent words, and she had begged
Sylvia not to give the Count any hint of her suspicion. Even now Sylvia
did not mention Madame Wachner.
"Of course, I don't think you a hypocrite," she said awkwardly, "but you
never did like poor Anna, and you were always telling me that Lacville
isn't a place where a nice woman ought to stay long. I thought you might
have said something of the same kind to Madame Wolsky."
"And do you really suppose," Count Paul spoke with a touch of sharp irony
in his voice, "that your friend would have taken my advice? Do you think
that Madame Wolsky would look either to the right or the left when the
Goddess of Chance beckoned?"--and he waved his hand in the direction
where the white Casino lay.
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