Such were her thoughts--her painful thoughts--as she walked across from
the restaurant to the entrance of the Casino. Two whole days had gone by
since she had been there last, and oh! how long each hour of those days
had seemed!
The two oddly-assorted couples passed through into the hall, and so up to
the closely-guarded doors of the Club.
The Baccarat Room was very full, fuller than usual, for several parties
of merry, rather boisterous young men had come out from Paris to spend
the evening.
She heard the words that were now so familiar, solemnly shouted out at
the further table: "_La Banque est aux encheres. Qui prend la Banque?_"
There was a pause, and there fell on Sylvia's ears the murmur of two
voices--the voice of the official who represented the Casino authorities,
and the deep, low voice which had become so dear to her--which thrilled
her heart each time she heard it.
Then Count Paul had come back? He had not followed her advice? And
instead of being sorry, as she ought to have been, she was glad--glad!
Not glad to know that he was here in the Casino--Sylvia was sorry for
that--but glad that he was once more close to her.
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