She did not care what she did or where she
went.
At last came the moment of parting.
"I'll go and see you off at the station," she said, and Chester, rather
surprised, raised one or two objections. "I'm determined to come," she
cried angrily. "What a pity it is, Bill, that you always try and manage
other people's business for them!"
And she did go to the station--only to be sorry for it afterwards.
Paul de Virieu, holding her hand tightly clasped in his for the last
time, had become frightfully pale, and as she made her way back to the
Casino, where the Wachners were actually waiting for her, Sylvia was
haunted by his reproachful, despairing eyes.
CHAPTER XXIV
It was nearly nine o'clock, and for the moment the Casino was very empty,
for the afternoon players had left, and the evening _serie_, as M.
Polperro contemptuously called them--the casual crowd of night visitors
to Lacville--had not yet arrived from Paris.
"And now," said Madame Wachner, suddenly, "is it not time for us to go
and 'ave our little supper?"
The "citizeness of the world" had been watching her husband and Sylvia
playing at Baccarat; both of them had won, and Sylvia had welcomed,
eagerly, the excitement of the tables.
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