M. Polperro spread out his hands with an eloquent gesture. "I beg of
M'sieur," he said, "to allow me to conduct him to the Casino! Madame
Bailey will not be here for some time, not perhaps for one hour, perhaps
for two hours. I will have the luggage sent on to the Pension Malfait."
Strange--very strange! At home in Market Dalling Sylvia had always been
fond of going to bed quite early; yet now, according to the hotel-keeper,
she was perhaps going to stay out till one o'clock--till one o'clock on
Sunday morning!
M. Polperro led Chester into the stately, long drawing-room; but in a
very few moments he reappeared, having taken off his white apron and his
chef's cap, and put on a light grey alpaca coat and a soft hat.
As they hurried along the path which skirts the lake, Chester began to
feel the charm of the place. It was very gay and delightful--"very
French," so the English lawyer told himself. The lake, too, looked
beautiful--mysteriously beautiful and fairy-like, in the moonlight.
Soon they turned into a narrow dark lane.
"This is not a grand entrance to our beautiful Casino," said M.
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