THE
CHINK
IN
THE
ARMOUR
BY
MRS.
BELLOC
LOWNDES
AUTHOR
OF
"
THE
END
OF
HER
HONEYMOON
,
"
"
THE
LODGER
,
"
Etc.
1912
NEW
YORK
GROSSET
+
DUNLAP
"
But
there
is
one
chink
in
the
chain
armour
of
civilized
communities
.
Society
is
conducted
on
the
assumption
that
murder
will
not
be
committed
.
"
—
The
Spectator
.
CHAPTER
I
A
small
,
shiny
,
pink
card
lay
on
the
round
table
in
Sylvia
Bailey
's
sitting-room
at
the
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
in
Paris
.
She
had
become
quite
accustomed
to
finding
one
or
more
cards
—
cards
from
dressmakers
,
cards
from
corset-makers
,
cards
from
hairdressers
—
lying
on
her
sitting-room
table
,
but
there
had
never
been
a
card
quite
like
this
card
.
Although
it
was
pink
,
it
looked
more
like
a
visiting-card
than
a
tradesman
's
advertisement
,
and
she
took
it
up
with
some
curiosity
.
It
was
inscribed
"
Madame
Cagliostra
,
"
and
underneath
the
name
were
written
the
words
"
Diseuse
de
la
Bonne
Aventure
,
"
and
then
,
in
a
corner
,
in
very
small
black
letters
,
the
address
,
"
5
,
Rue
Jolie
,
Montmartre
.
"
A
fortune-teller
's
card
?
What
an
extraordinary
thing
!
Like
many
pretty
,
prosperous
,
idle
women
,
Sylvia
was
rather
superstitious
.
Not
long
before
this
,
her
first
visit
to
Paris
,
a
London
acquaintance
had
taken
her
to
see
a
noted
palmist
named
"
Pharaoh
,
"
in
Bond
Street
.
She
had
paid
her
guinea
willingly
enough
,
but
the
result
had
vaguely
disappointed
her
,
and
she
had
had
the
feeling
,
all
the
time
she
was
with
him
,
that
the
man
was
not
really
reading
her
hand
.
True
,
"
Pharaoh
"
had
told
her
she
was
going
abroad
,
and
at
that
time
she
had
no
intention
of
doing
so
.
The
palmist
had
also
told
her
—
and
this
was
really
rather
curious
—
that
she
would
meet
,
when
abroad
,
a
foreign
woman
who
would
have
a
considerable
influence
on
her
life
.
Well
,
in
this
very
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
Mrs.
Bailey
had
come
across
a
Polish
lady
,
named
Anna
Wolsky
,
who
was
,
like
Sylvia
herself
,
a
young
widow
,
and
the
two
had
taken
a
great
fancy
to
one
another
.
It
was
most
unlikely
that
Madame
Wolsky
would
have
the
slightest
influence
on
her
,
Sylvia
Bailey
's
,
life
,
but
at
any
rate
it
was
very
curious
coincidence
.
"
Pharaoh
"
had
proved
to
be
right
as
to
these
two
things
—
she
had
come
abroad
,
and
she
had
formed
a
friendship
with
a
foreign
woman
.
Mrs.
Bailey
was
still
standing
by
the
table
,
and
still
holding
the
pink
card
in
her
hand
,
when
her
new
friend
came
into
the
room
.
"
Well
?
"
said
Anna
Wolsky
,
speaking
English
with
a
strong
foreign
accent
,
but
still
speaking
it
remarkably
well
,
"
Have
you
yet
decided
,
my
dear
,
what
we
shall
do
this
afternoon
?
There
are
a
dozen
things
open
to
us
,
and
I
am
absolutely
at
your
service
to
do
any
one
of
them
!
"
Sylvia
Bailey
laughingly
shook
her
head
.
"
I
feel
lazy
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
've
been
at
the
Bon
Marché
ever
since
nine
o'clock
,
and
I
feel
more
like
having
a
rest
than
going
out
again
,
though
it
does
seem
a
shame
to
stay
in
a
day
like
this
!
"
The
windows
were
wide
open
,
the
June
sun
was
streaming
in
,
and
on
the
light
breeze
was
borne
the
murmur
of
the
traffic
in
the
Avenue
de
l'Opéra
,
within
a
few
yards
of
the
quiet
street
where
the
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
is
situated
.
The
other
woman
—
Anna
Wolsky
was
some
years
older
than
Sylvia
Bailey
—
smiled
indulgently
.
"
Tiens
!
"
she
cried
suddenly
,
"
what
have
you
got
there
?
"
and
she
took
the
pink
card
out
of
Sylvia
's
hand
.
"
Madame
Cagliostra
?
"
she
repeated
,
musingly
.
"
Now
where
did
I
hear
that
name
?
Yes
,
of
course
it
was
from
our
chambermaid
!
Cagliostra
is
a
friend
of
hers
,
and
,
according
to
her
,
a
marvellous
person
—
one
from
whom
the
devil
keeps
no
secrets
!
She
charges
only
five
francs
for
a
consultation
,
and
it
appears
that
all
sorts
of
well-known
people
go
to
her
,
even
those
whom
the
Parisians
call
the
Gratin
,
that
is
,
the
Upper
Crust
,
from
the
Champs
Elysées
and
the
Faubourg
St.
Germain
!
"
"
I
do
n't
think
much
of
fortune-tellers
,
"
said
Sylvia
,
thoughtfully
.
"
I
went
to
one
last
time
I
was
in
London
and
he
really
did
n't
tell
me
anything
of
the
slightest
interest
.
"
Her
conscience
pricked
her
a
little
as
she
said
this
,
for
"
Pharaoh
"
had
certainly
predicted
a
journey
which
she
had
then
no
intention
of
taking
,
and
a
meeting
with
a
foreign
woman
.
Yet
here
she
was
in
Paris
,
and
here
was
the
foreign
woman
standing
close
to
her
!
Nay
more
,
Anna
Wolsky
had
become
—
it
was
really
rather
odd
that
it
should
be
so
—
the
first
intimate
friend
of
her
own
sex
Sylvia
had
made
since
she
was
a
grown-up
woman
.
"
I
do
believe
in
fortune-tellers
,
"
said
Madame
Wolsky
deliberately
,
"
and
that
being
so
I
shall
spend
my
afternoon
in
going
up
to
Montmartre
,
to
the
Rue
Jolie
,
to
hear
what
this
Cagliostra
has
to
say
.
It
will
be
what
you
in
England
call
'
a
lark
'
!
And
I
do
not
see
why
I
should
not
give
myself
so
cheap
a
lark
as
a
five-franc
lark
!
"
"
Oh
,
if
you
really
mean
to
go
,
I
think
I
will
go
too
!
"
cried
Sylvia
,
gaily
.
She
was
beginning
to
feel
less
tired
,
and
the
thought
of
a
long
lonely
afternoon
spent
indoors
and
by
herself
lacked
attraction
.
Linking
her
arm
through
her
friend
's
,
she
went
downstairs
and
into
the
barely
furnished
dining-room
,
which
was
so
very
unlike
an
English
hotel
dining-room
.
In
this
dining-room
the
wallpaper
simulated
a
vine-covered
trellis
,
from
out
of
which
peeped
blue-plumaged
birds
,
and
on
each
little
table
,
covered
by
an
unbleached
table-cloth
,
stood
an
oil
and
vinegar
cruet
and
a
half-bottle
of
wine
.
The
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
was
a
typical
French
hotel
,
and
foreigners
very
seldom
stayed
there
.
Sylvia
had
been
told
of
the
place
by
the
old
French
lady
who
had
been
her
governess
,
and
who
had
taught
her
to
speak
French
exceptionally
well
.
Several
quiet
Frenchmen
,
who
had
offices
in
the
neighbourhood
,
were
"
en
pension
"
at
the
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
,
and
as
the
two
friends
came
in
many
were
the
steady
,
speculative
glances
cast
in
their
direction
.
To
the
average
Frenchman
every
woman
is
interesting
;
for
every
Frenchman
is
in
love
with
love
,
and
in
each
fair
stranger
he
sees
the
possible
heroine
of
a
romance
in
which
he
may
play
the
agreeable
part
of
hero
.
So
it
was
that
Sylvia
Bailey
and
Anna
Wolsky
both
had
their
silent
admirers
among
those
who
lunched
and
dined
in
the
narrow
green
and
white
dining-room
of
the
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
.
Only
a
Frenchman
would
have
given
a
second
look
at
the
Polish
lady
while
Sylvia
was
by
,
but
a
Frenchman
,
being
both
a
philosopher
and
a
logician
by
nature
,
is
very
apt
to
content
himself
with
the
second-best
when
he
knows
the
best
is
not
for
him
.
The
two
friends
were
in
entire
contrast
to
one
another
.
Madame
Wolsky
was
tall
,
dark
,
almost
swarthy
;
there
was
a
look
of
rather
haughty
pride
and
reserve
on
her
strong-featured
face
.
She
dressed
extremely
plainly
,
the
only
ornament
ever
worn
by
her
being
a
small
gold
horseshoe
,
in
the
centre
of
which
was
treasured
—
so
,
not
long
ago
,
she
had
confided
to
Sylvia
,
who
had
been
at
once
horrified
and
thrilled
—
a
piece
of
the
rope
with
which
a
man
had
hanged
himself
at
Monte
Carlo
two
years
before
!
For
Madame
Wolsky
—
and
she
made
no
secret
of
the
fact
to
her
new
friend
—
was
a
gambler
.
Anna
Wolsky
was
never
really
happy
,
she
did
not
feel
more
than
half
alive
,
when
away
from
the
green
cloth
.
She
had
only
left
Monte
Carlo
when
the
heat
began
to
make
the
place
unbearable
to
one
of
her
northern
temperament
,
and
she
was
soon
moving
on
to
one
of
the
French
watering-places
,
where
gambling
of
sorts
can
be
indulged
in
all
the
summer
through
.
Different
in
looks
,
in
temperament
,
and
in
tastes
were
the
two
young
widows
,
and
this
,
perhaps
,
was
why
they
got
on
so
excellently
well
together
.
Sylvia
Bailey
was
the
foreign
ideal
of
a
beautiful
Englishwoman
.
Her
hair
was
fair
,
and
curled
naturally
.
Her
eyes
were
of
that
blue
which
looks
violet
in
the
sunlight
;
and
she
had
a
delicate
,
rose
leaf
complexion
.
Married
when
only
nineteen
to
a
man
much
older
than
herself
,
she
was
now
at
twenty-five
a
widow
,
and
one
without
any
intimate
duties
or
close
ties
to
fill
her
existence
.
Though
she
had
mourned
George
Bailey
sincerely
,
she
had
soon
recovered
all
her
normal
interest
and
pleasure
in
life
.
Mrs.
Bailey
was
fond
of
dress
and
able
to
indulge
her
taste
;
but
,
even
so
,
good
feeling
and
the
standard
of
propriety
of
the
English
country
town
of
Market
Dalling
where
she
had
spent
most
of
her
life
,
perhaps
also
a
subtle
instinct
that
nothing
else
would
ever
suit
her
so
well
,
made
her
remain
rigidly
faithful
to
white
and
black
,
pale
grey
,
and
lavender
.
She
also
wore
only
one
ornament
,
but
it
was
a
very
becoming
and
an
exceedingly
costly
ornament
,
for
it
consisted
of
a
string
of
large
and
finely-matched
pearls
.
As
the
two
friends
went
upstairs
after
luncheon
Madame
Wolsky
said
earnestly
,
"
If
I
were
you
,
Sylvia
,
I
would
certainly
leave
your
pearls
in
the
office
this
afternoon
.
Where
is
the
use
of
wearing
them
on
such
an
expedition
as
that
to
a
fortune-teller
?
"
"
But
why
should
n't
I
wear
them
?
"
asked
Sylvia
,
rather
surprised
.
"
Well
,
in
your
place
I
should
certainly
leave
anything
as
valuable
as
your
pearls
in
safe
keeping
.
After
all
,
we
know
nothing
of
this
Madame
Cagliostra
,
and
Montmartre
is
what
Parisians
call
an
eccentric
quarter
.
"
Sylvia
Bailey
disliked
very
much
taking
off
her
pearls
.
Though
she
could
not
have
put
the
fact
into
words
,
this
string
of
pearls
was
to
her
a
symbol
of
her
freedom
,
almost
of
her
womanhood
.
As
a
child
and
young
girl
she
had
been
under
the
close
guardianship
of
a
stern
father
,
and
it
was
to
please
him
that
she
had
married
the
rich
,
middle-aged
man
at
Market
Dalling
whose
adoration
she
had
endured
rather
than
reciprocated
.
George
Bailey
also
had
been
a
determined
man
—
determined
that
his
young
wife
should
live
his
way
,
not
hers
.
During
their
brief
married
life
he
had
heaped
on
her
showy
,
rather
than
beautiful
,
jewels
;
nothing
of
great
value
,
nothing
she
could
wear
when
in
mourning
.
And
then
,
four
months
after
her
husband
's
death
,
Sylvia
's
own
aunt
had
died
and
left
her
a
thousand
pounds
.
It
was
this
legacy
—
which
her
trustee
,
a
young
solicitor
named
William
Chester
,
who
was
also
a
friend
and
an
admirer
of
hers
,
as
well
as
her
trustee
,
had
been
proposing
to
invest
in
what
he
called
"
a
remarkably
good
thing
"
—
Mrs
.
Bailey
had
insisted
on
squandering
on
a
string
of
pearls
!
Sylvia
had
become
aware
,
in
the
subtle
way
in
which
Women
become
aware
of
such
things
,
that
pearls
were
the
fashion
—
in
fact
,
in
one
sense
,
"
the
only
wear
.
"
She
had
noticed
that
most
of
the
great
ladies
of
the
neighbourhood
of
Market
Dalling
,
those
whom
she
saw
on
those
occasions
when
town
and
county
meet
,
each
wore
a
string
of
pearls
.
She
had
also
come
to
know
that
pearls
seem
to
be
the
only
gems
which
can
be
worn
with
absolute
propriety
by
a
widow
,
and
so
,
suddenly
,
she
had
made
up
her
mind
to
invest
—
she
called
it
an
"
investment
,
"
while
Chester
called
it
an
"
absurd
extravagance
"
—
in
a
string
of
pearls
.
Bill
Chester
had
done
his
very
best
to
persuade
her
to
give
up
her
silly
notion
,
but
she
had
held
good
;
she
had
shown
herself
,
at
any
rate
on
this
one
occasion
,
and
in
spite
of
her
kindly
,
yielding
nature
,
obstinate
.
This
was
why
her
beautiful
pearls
had
become
to
Sylvia
Bailey
a
symbol
of
her
freedom
.
The
thousand
pounds
,
invested
as
Bill
Chester
had
meant
to
invest
it
,
would
have
brought
her
in
£
55
a
year
,
so
he
had
told
her
in
a
grave
,
disapproving
tone
.
In
return
she
had
told
him
,
the
colour
rushing
into
her
pretty
face
,
that
after
all
she
had
the
right
to
do
what
she
chose
with
her
legacy
,
the
more
so
that
this
thousand
pounds
was
in
a
peculiar
sense
her
own
money
,
as
the
woman
who
had
left
it
her
was
her
mother
's
sister
,
having
nothing
to
do
either
with
her
father
or
with
the
late
George
Bailey
!
And
so
she
had
had
her
way
—
nay
,
more
;
Chester
,
at
the
very
last
,
had
gone
to
great
trouble
in
order
that
she
might
not
be
cheated
over
her
purchase
.
Best
of
all
,
Bill
—
Sylvia
always
called
the
serious-minded
young
lawyer
"
Bill
"
—
had
lived
to
admit
that
Mrs.
Bailey
had
made
a
good
investment
after
all
,
for
her
pearls
had
increased
in
value
in
the
two
years
she
had
had
them
.
Be
that
as
it
may
,
the
young
widow
often
reminded
herself
that
nothing
she
had
ever
bought
,
and
nothing
that
had
ever
been
given
her
,
had
caused
her
such
lasting
pleasure
as
her
beloved
string
of
pearls
!
But
on
this
pleasant
June
afternoon
,
in
deference
to
her
determined
friend
's
advice
,
she
took
off
her
pearls
before
starting
out
for
Montmartre
,
leaving
the
case
in
the
charge
of
M
.
Girard
,
the
genial
proprietor
of
the
Hôtel
de
l'Horloge
.
CHAPTER
II
With
easy
,
leisurely
steps
,
constantly
stopping
to
look
into
the
windows
of
the
quaint
shops
they
passed
on
the
way
,
Sylvia
Bailey
and
Anna
Wolsky
walked
up
the
steep
,
the
almost
mountainous
byways
and
narrow
streets
which
lead
to
the
top
of
Montmartre
.
The
whole
population
seemed
to
have
poured
itself
out
in
the
open
air
on
this
sunny
day
;
even
the
shopkeepers
had
brought
chairs
out
of
their
shops
and
sat
on
the
pavement
,
gaily
laughing
and
gossiping
together
in
the
eager
way
Parisians
have
.
As
the
two
foreign
ladies
,
both
young
,
both
in
their
very
different
fashion
good-looking
,
walked
past
the
sitting
groups
of
neighbours
—
men
,
women
,
and
children
would
stop
talking
and
stare
intently
at
them
,
as
is
also
a
Parisian
way
.
At
first
Sylvia
had
disliked
the
manner
in
which
she
was
stared
at
in
Paris
,
and
she
had
been
much
embarrassed
as
well
as
a
little
amused
by
the
very
frank
remarks
called
forth
in
omnibuses
as
well
as
in
the
street
by
the
brilliancy
of
her
complexion
and
the
bright
beauty
of
her
fair
hair
.
But
now
she
was
almost
used
to
this
odd
form
of
homage
,
which
came
quite
as
often
from
women
as
from
men
.
"
The
Rue
Jolie
?
"
answered
a
cheerful-looking
man
in
answer
to
a
question
.
"
Why
,
it
's
ever
so
much
further
up
!
"
and
he
vaguely
pointed
skywards
.
And
it
was
much
further
up
,
close
to
the
very
top
of
the
great
hill
!
In
fact
,
it
took
the
two
ladies
a
long
time
to
find
it
,
for
the
Rue
Jolie
was
the
funniest
,
tiniest
little
street
,
perched
high
up
on
what
might
almost
have
been
a
mountain
side
.
As
for
No.
5
,
Rue
Jolie
,
it
was
a
queer
miniature
house
more
like
a
Swiss
châlet
than
anything
else
,
and
surrounded
by
a
gay
,
untidy
little
garden
full
of
flowers
,
the
kind
of
half-wild
,
shy
,
and
yet
hardy
flowers
that
come
up
,
year
after
year
,
without
being
tended
or
watered
.
"
Surely
a
fortune-teller
ca
n't
live
here
?
"
exclaimed
Sylvia
Bailey
,
remembering
the
stately
,
awe-inspiring
rooms
in
which
"
Pharaoh
"
received
his
clients
in
Bond
Street
.
"
Oh
,
yes
,
this
is
evidently
the
place
!
"
Anna
Wolsky
smiled
good-humouredly
;
she
had
become
extremely
fond
of
the
young
Englishwoman
;
she
delighted
in
Sylvia
's
radiant
prettiness
,
her
kindly
good-temper
,
and
her
eager
pleasure
in
everything
.
A
large
iron
gate
gave
access
to
the
courtyard
which
was
so
much
larger
than
the
house
built
round
it
.
But
the
gate
was
locked
,
and
a
pull
at
the
rusty
bell-wire
produced
no
result
.
They
waited
a
while
.
"
She
must
have
gone
out
,
"
said
Sylvia
,
rather
disappointed
.
But
Madame
Wolsky
,
without
speaking
,
again
pulled
at
the
rusty
wire
,
and
then
one
of
the
châlet
windows
was
suddenly
flung
open
from
above
,
and
a
woman
—
a
dark
,
middle-aged
Frenchwoman
—
leant
out
.
"
Qui
est
là
?
"
and
then
before
either
of
them
could
answer
,
the
woman
had
drawn
back
:
a
moment
later
they
heard
her
heavy
progress
down
the
creaky
stairs
of
her
dwelling
.
At
last
she
came
out
into
the
courtyard
,
unlocked
the
iron
gate
,
and
curtly
motioned
to
the
two
ladies
to
follow
her
.
"
We
have
come
to
see
Madame
Cagliostra
,
"
said
Sylvia
timidly
.
She
took
this
stout
,
untidily-dressed
woman
for
the
fortune-teller
's
servant
.
"
Madame
Cagliostra
,
at
your
service
!
"
The
woman
turned
round
,
her
face
breaking
into
a
broad
smile
.
She
evidently
liked
the
sound
of
her
peculiar
name
.
They
followed
her
up
a
dark
staircase
into
a
curious
little
sitting-room
.
It
was
scrupulously
clean
,
but
about
it
hung
the
faint
odour
which
the
French
eloquently
describe
as
"
shut
in
,
"
and
even
on
this
beautiful
hot
day
the
windows
were
tightly
closed
.
On
the
red
walls
hung
various
drawings
of
hands
,
of
hearts
,
and
of
heads
,
and
over
the
plain
mantelpiece
was
a
really
fine
pastel
portrait
of
a
man
,
in
eighteenth
century
dress
and
powdered
hair
.
"
My
ancestor
,
Count
Cagliostro
,
ladies
!
"
exclaimed
the
fat
little
woman
proudly
.
"
As
you
will
soon
see
,
if
you
have
,
as
I
venture
to
suppose
,
come
to
consult
me
,
I
have
inherited
the
great
gifts
which
made
Count
Cagliostro
famous
.
"
She
waited
a
moment
.
"
What
is
it
you
desire
of
me
?
Do
you
wish
for
the
Grand
Jeu
?
Or
do
you
prefer
the
Crystal
?
"
Madame
Cagliostra
gave
a
shrewd
,
measuring
glance
at
the
two
young
women
standing
before
her
.
She
was
wondering
how
much
they
were
good
for
.
"
No
doubt
you
have
been
told
,
"
she
said
suddenly
,
"
that
my
fee
is
five
francs
.
But
if
you
require
the
Grand
Jeu
it
will
be
ten
francs
.
Come
,
ladies
,
make
up
your
minds
;
I
will
give
you
both
the
Grand
Jeu
for
fifteen
francs
!
"
Sylvia
Bailey
's
lip
quivered
;
she
felt
a
wild
wish
to
burst
out
laughing
.
It
was
all
so
absurd
;
this
funny
queer
house
;
this
odd
,
stuffy
,
empty-looking
room
;
and
this
vulgar
,
common-looking
woman
asserting
that
she
was
descended
from
the
famous
Count
Cagliostro
!
And
then
,
to
crown
everything
,
the
naïve
,
rather
pathetic
,
attempt
to
get
an
extra
five
francs
out
of
them
.
But
Sylvia
was
a
very
kindly
,
happy-natured
creature
,
and
she
would
not
have
hurt
the
feelings
of
even
a
Madame
Cagliostra
for
the
world
.
She
looked
at
her
friend
questioningly
.
Would
it
not
be
better
just
to
give
the
woman
five
francs
and
go
away
?
They
surely
could
not
expect
to
hear
anything
of
any
value
from
such
a
person
.
She
was
evidently
a
fraud
!
But
Anna
Wolsky
was
staring
at
Madame
Cagliostra
with
a
serious
look
.
"
Very
well
,
"
she
exclaimed
,
in
her
rather
indifferent
French
.
"
Very
well
!
We
will
both
take
the
Grand
Jeu
at
fifteen
francs
the
two
.
"
She
turned
and
smiled
at
Sylvia
.
"
It
will
be
,
"
she
said
,
quaintly
,
and
in
English
,
"
my
'
treat
,
'
dear
friend
.
"
And
then
,
as
Sylvia
shook
her
head
decidedly
—
there
were
often
these
little
contests
of
generosity
between
the
two
women
—
she
added
rather
sharply
,
"
Yes
,
yes
!
It
shall
be
so
.
I
insist
!
I
see
you
do
not
believe
in
our
hostess
's
gift
.
There
are
,
however
,
one
or
two
questions
I
must
ask
,
and
to
which
I
fancy
she
can
give
me
an
answer
.
I
am
anxious
,
too
,
to
hear
what
she
will
say
about
you
.
"
Sylvia
smiled
,
and
gave
way
.
Like
most
prosperous
people
who
have
not
made
the
money
they
are
able
to
spend
,
Mrs.
Bailey
did
not
attach
any
undue
importance
to
wealth
.
But
she
knew
that
her
friend
was
not
as
well
off
as
herself
,
and
therefore
she
was
always
trying
to
pay
a
little
more
of
her
share
than
was
fair
.
Thanks
to
Madame
Wolsky
's
stronger
will
,
she
very
seldom
succeeded
in
doing
so
.
"
We
might
at
least
ask
her
to
open
the
window
,
"
she
said
rather
plaintively
.
It
really
was
dreadfully
stuffy
!
Madame
Cagliostra
had
gone
to
a
sideboard
from
which
she
was
taking
two
packs
of
exceedingly
dirty
,
queer-looking
cards
.
They
were
the
famous
Taro
cards
,
but
Sylvia
did
not
know
that
.
When
the
fortune-teller
was
asked
to
open
the
window
,
she
shook
her
head
decidedly
.
"
No
,
no
!
"
she
said
.
"
It
would
dissipate
the
influences
.
I
cannot
do
that
!
On
the
contrary
,
the
curtains
should
be
drawn
close
,
and
if
the
ladies
will
permit
of
it
I
will
light
my
lamp
.
"
Even
as
she
spoke
she
was
jerking
the
thick
curtains
closely
together
;
she
even
pinned
them
across
so
that
no
ray
of
the
bright
sunlight
outside
could
penetrate
into
the
room
.
For
a
few
moments
they
were
in
complete
darkness
,
and
Sylvia
felt
a
queer
,
eerie
sensation
of
fear
,
but
this
soon
passed
away
as
the
lamp
—
the
"
Suspension
,
"
as
Madame
Cagliostra
proudly
called
it
—
was
lit
.
When
her
lamp
was
well
alight
,
the
soothsayer
drew
three
chairs
up
to
the
round
table
,
and
motioned
the
two
strangers
to
sit
down
.
"
You
will
take
my
friend
first
,
"
said
Anna
Wolsky
,
imperiously
;
and
then
,
to
Sylvia
,
she
said
,
in
English
,
"
Would
you
rather
I
went
away
,
dear
?
I
could
wait
on
the
staircase
till
you
were
ready
for
me
to
come
back
.
It
is
not
very
pleasant
to
have
one
's
fortune
told
when
one
is
as
young
and
as
pretty
as
you
are
,
before
other
people
.
"
"
Of
course
I
do
n't
mind
your
being
here
!
"
cried
Sylvia
Bailey
,
laughing
—
then
,
looking
doubtfully
at
Madame
Cagliostra
,
though
it
was
obvious
the
Frenchwoman
did
not
understand
English
,
"
The
truth
is
that
I
should
feel
rather
frightened
if
you
were
to
leave
me
here
all
by
myself
.
So
please
stay
.
"
Madame
Cagliostra
began
dealing
out
the
cards
on
the
table
.
First
slowly
,
then
quickly
,
she
laid
them
out
in
a
queer
pattern
;
and
as
she
did
so
she
muttered
and
murmured
to
herself
.
Then
a
frown
came
over
her
face
;
she
began
to
look
disturbed
,
anxious
,
almost
angry
.
Sylvia
,
in
spite
of
herself
,
grew
interested
and
excited
.
She
was
sorry
she
had
not
taken
off
her
wedding-ring
.
In
England
the
wise
woman
always
takes
off
her
wedding-ring
on
going
to
see
a
fortune-teller
.
She
was
also
rather
glad
that
she
had
left
her
pearls
in
the
safe
custody
of
M
.
Girard
.
This
little
house
in
the
Rue
Jolie
was
a
strange
,
lonely
place
.
Suddenly
Madame
Cagliostra
began
to
speak
in
a
quick
,
clear
,
monotonous
voice
.
Keeping
her
eyes
fixed
on
the
cards
,
which
now
and
again
she
touched
with
a
fat
finger
,
and
without
looking
at
Sylvia
,
she
said
:
"
Madame
has
led
a
very
placid
,
quiet
life
.
Her
existence
has
been
a
boat
that
has
always
lain
in
harbour
—
"
She
suddenly
looked
up
:
"
I
spent
my
childhood
at
Dieppe
,
and
that
often
suggests
images
to
me
,
"
she
observed
complacently
,
and
then
she
went
on
in
quite
another
tone
of
voice
:
—
"
To
return
to
Madame
and
her
fate
!
The
boat
has
always
been
in
harbour
,
but
now
it
is
about
to
put
out
to
sea
.
It
will
meet
there
another
craft
.
This
other
craft
is
,
to
Madame
,
a
foreign
craft
,
and
I
grieve
to
say
it
,
rather
battered
.
But
its
timbers
are
sound
,
and
that
is
well
,
for
it
looks
to
me
as
if
the
sails
of
Madame
's
boat
would
mingle
,
at
any
rate
for
a
time
with
this
battered
craft
.
"
"
I
do
n't
understand
what
she
means
,
"
said
Sylvia
,
in
a
whisper
.
"
Do
ask
her
to
explain
,
Anna
!
"
"
My
friend
asks
you
to
drop
metaphor
,
"
said
the
older
woman
,
drily
.
The
soothsayer
fixed
her
bright
,
beady
little
eyes
on
Sylvia
's
flushed
face
.
"
Well
,
"
she
said
deliberately
,
"
I
see
you
falling
in
love
,
and
I
also
see
that
falling
in
love
is
quite
a
new
experience
.
It
burns
,
it
scorches
you
,
does
love
,
Madame
.
And
for
awhile
you
do
not
know
what
it
means
,
for
love
has
never
yet
touched
you
with
his
red-hot
finger
.
"
"
How
absurd
!
"
thought
Sylvia
to
herself
.
"
She
actually
takes
me
for
a
young
girl
!
What
ridiculous
mistakes
fortune-tellers
do
make
,
to
be
sure
!
"
"
—
But
you
cannot
escape
love
,
"
went
on
Madame
Cagliostra
,
eagerly
.
"
Your
fate
is
a
fair
man
,
which
is
strange
considering
that
you
also
are
a
fair
woman
;
and
I
see
that
there
is
already
a
dark
man
in
your
life
.
"
Sylvia
blushed
.
Bill
Chester
,
just
now
the
only
man
in
her
life
,
was
a
very
dark
man
.
"
But
this
fair
man
knows
all
the
arts
of
love
.
"
Madame
Cagliostra
sighed
,
her
voice
softened
,
it
became
strangely
low
and
sweet
.
"
He
will
love
you
tenderly
as
well
as
passionately
.
And
as
for
you
,
Madame
—
but
no
,
for
me
to
tell
you
what
you
will
feel
and
what
you
will
do
would
not
be
delicate
on
my
part
!
"
Sylvia
grew
redder
and
redder
.
She
tried
to
laugh
,
but
failed
.
She
felt
angry
,
and
not
a
little
disgusted
.
"
You
are
a
foreigner
,
"
went
on
Madame
Cagliostra
.
Her
voice
had
grown
hard
and
expressionless
again
.
Sylvia
smiled
a
little
satiric
smile
.
"
But
though
you
are
a
foreigner
,
"
cried
the
fortune-teller
with
sudden
energy
,
"
it
is
quite
possible
that
you
will
never
go
back
to
your
own
country
!
Stop
—
or
,
perhaps
,
I
shall
say
too
much
!
Still
if
you
ever
do
go
back
,
it
will
be
as
a
stranger
.
That
I
say
with
certainty
.
And
I
add
that
I
hope
with
all
my
heart
that
you
will
live
to
go
back
to
your
own
country
,
Madame
!
"
Sylvia
felt
a
vague
,
uneasy
feeling
of
oppression
,
almost
of
fear
,
steal
over
her
.
It
seemed
to
her
that
Madame
Cagliostra
was
looking
at
her
with
puzzled
,
pitying
eyes
.
The
soothsayer
again
put
a
fat
and
not
too
clean
finger
down
on
the
upturned
face
of
a
card
.
"
There
is
something
here
I
do
not
understand
;
something
which
I
miss
when
I
look
at
you
as
I
am
now
looking
at
you
.
It
is
something
you
always
wear
—
"
She
gazed
searchingly
at
Sylvia
,
and
her
eyes
travelled
over
Mrs.
Bailey
's
neck
and
bosom
.
"
I
see
them
and
yet
they
are
not
there
!
They
appear
like
little
balls
of
light
.
Surely
it
is
a
necklace
?
"
Sylvia
looked
extremely
surprised
.
Now
,
at
last
,
Madame
Cagliostra
was
justifying
her
claim
to
a
supernatural
gift
!
"
These
balls
of
light
are
also
your
Fate
!
"
exclaimed
the
woman
impetuously
.
"
If
you
had
them
here
—
I
care
not
what
they
be
—
I
should
entreat
you
to
give
them
to
me
to
throw
away
.
"
Madame
Wolsky
began
to
laugh
.
"
I
do
n't
think
you
would
do
that
,
"
she
observed
drily
.
But
Madame
Cagliostra
did
not
seem
to
hear
the
interruption
.
"
Have
you
heard
of
a
mascot
?
"
she
said
abruptly
.
"
Of
a
mascot
which
brings
good
fortune
to
its
wearer
?
"
Sylvia
bent
her
head
.
Of
course
she
had
heard
of
mascots
.
"
Well
,
if
so
,
you
have
,
of
course
,
heard
of
objects
which
bring
misfortune
to
their
wearers
—
which
are
,
so
to
speak
,
unlucky
mascots
?
"
And
this
time
it
was
Anna
Wolsky
who
,
leaning
forward
,
nodded
gravely
.
She
attributed
a
run
of
bad
luck
she
had
had
the
year
before
to
a
trifling
gift
,
twin
cherries
made
of
enamel
,
which
a
friend
had
given
her
,
in
her
old
home
,
on
her
birthday
.
Till
she
had
thrown
that
little
brooch
into
the
sea
,
she
had
been
persistently
unlucky
at
play
.
"
Your
friend
,
"
murmured
Madame
Cagliostra
,
now
addressing
herself
to
Anna
and
not
to
Sylvia
,
"
should
dispossess
herself
as
quickly
as
possible
of
her
necklace
,
of
these
round
balls
.
They
have
already
brought
her
ill-fortune
in
the
past
,
they
have
lowered
her
in
the
estimation
of
an
estimable
person
—
in
fact
,
if
she
is
not
very
careful
,
indeed
,
even
if
she
be
very
careful
—
it
looks
to
me
,
Madame
,
as
if
they
would
end
by
strangling
her
!
"
Sylvia
became
very
uncomfortable
.
"
Of
course
she
means
my
pearls
,
"
she
whispered
.
"
But
how
absurd
to
say
they
could
ever
do
me
harm
.
"
"
Look
here
,
"
said
Anna
Wolsky
earnestly
,
"
you
are
quite
right
,
Madame
;
my
friend
has
a
necklace
which
has
already
played
a
certain
part
in
her
life
.
But
is
it
not
just
because
of
this
fact
that
you
feel
the
influence
of
this
necklace
so
strongly
?
I
entreat
you
to
speak
frankly
.
You
are
really
distressing
me
very
much
!
"
Madame
Cagliostra
looked
very
seriously
at
the
speaker
.
"
Well
,
perhaps
it
is
so
,
"
she
said
at
last
.
"
Of
course
,
we
are
sometimes
wrong
in
our
premonitions
.
And
I
confess
that
I
feel
puzzled
—
exceedingly
puzzled
—
to-day
.
I
do
not
know
that
I
have
ever
had
so
strange
a
case
as
that
of
this
English
lady
before
me
!
I
see
so
many
roads
stretching
before
her
—
I
also
see
her
going
along
more
than
one
road
.
As
a
rule
,
one
does
not
see
this
in
the
cards
.
"
She
looked
really
harassed
,
really
distressed
,
and
was
still
conning
her
cards
anxiously
.
"
And
yet
after
all
,
"
she
cried
suddenly
,
"
I
may
be
wrong
!
Perhaps
the
necklace
has
less
to
do
with
it
than
I
thought
!
I
do
not
know
whether
the
necklace
would
make
any
real
difference
!
If
she
takes
one
of
the
roads
open
to
her
,
then
I
see
no
danger
at
all
attaching
to
the
preservation
of
this
necklace
.
But
the
other
road
leads
straight
to
the
House
of
Peril
.
"
"
The
House
of
Peril
?
"
echoed
Sylvia
Bailey
.
"
Yes
,
Madame
.
Do
you
not
know
that
all
men
and
women
have
their
House
of
Peril
—
the
house
whose
threshold
they
should
never
cross
—
behind
whose
door
lies
misery
,
sometimes
dishonour
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
said
Anna
Wolsky
,
"
that
is
true
,
quite
true
!
There
has
been
,
alas
!
more
than
one
House
of
Peril
in
my
life
.
"
She
added
,
"
But
what
kind
of
place
is
my
friend
's
House
of
Peril
?
"
"
It
is
not
a
large
house
,
"
said
the
fortune-teller
,
staring
down
at
the
shining
surface
of
her
table
.
"
It
is
a
gay
,
delightful
little
place
,
ladies
—
quite
my
idea
of
a
pretty
dwelling
.
But
it
is
filled
with
horror
unutterable
to
Madame
.
Ah
!
I
entreat
you
"
—
she
stared
sadly
at
Sylvia
—
"
to
beware
of
unknown
buildings
,
especially
if
you
persist
in
keeping
and
in
wearing
your
necklace
.
"
"
Do
tell
us
,
Madame
,
something
more
about
my
friend
's
necklace
.
Is
it
,
for
instance
,
of
great
value
,
and
is
it
its
value
that
makes
it
a
source
of
danger
?
"
Anna
Wolsky
wondered
very
much
what
would
be
the
answer
to
this
question
.
She
had
had
her
doubts
as
to
the
genuineness
of
the
pearls
her
friend
wore
.
Pearls
are
so
exquisitely
imitated
nowadays
,
and
these
pearls
,
if
genuine
,
were
of
such
great
value
!
At
first
she
had
not
believed
them
to
be
real
,
then
gradually
she
had
become
convinced
of
Sylvia
's
good
faith
.
If
the
pearls
were
false
,
Sylvia
did
not
know
it
.
But
Madame
Cagliostra
's
answer
was
disappointing
—
or
prudent
.
"
I
cannot
tell
you
that
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
cannot
even
tell
you
of
what
the
necklace
is
composed
.
It
may
be
of
gold
,
of
silver
,
of
diamonds
,
of
pearls
—
it
may
be
,
I
'm
inclined
to
think
it
is
,
composed
of
Egyptian
scarabei
.
They
,
as
you
know
,
often
bring
terrible
ill-fortune
in
their
train
,
especially
when
they
have
been
taken
from
the
bodies
of
mummies
.
But
the
necklace
has
already
caused
this
lady
to
quarrel
with
a
very
good
and
sure
friend
of
hers
—
of
that
I
am
sure
.
And
,
as
I
tell
you
,
I
see
in
the
future
that
this
necklace
may
cause
her
very
serious
trouble
—
indeed
,
I
see
it
wound
like
a
serpent
round
her
neck
,
pressing
ever
tighter
and
tighter
—
"
She
suddenly
began
shuffling
the
cards
.
"
And
now
,
"
she
said
in
a
tone
of
relief
,
"
I
will
deal
with
you
,
Madame
,
"
and
she
turned
to
Anna
with
a
smile
.
Sylvia
drew
her
chair
a
little
away
from
the
table
.
She
felt
depressed
and
uncomfortable
.
What
an
odd
queer
kind
of
fortune
had
been
told
her
!
And
then
it
had
all
been
so
muddled
.
She
could
scarcely
remember
what
it
was
that
had
been
told
her
.
Two
things
,
however
,
remained
very
clear
in
her
mind
:
The
one
was
the
absurd
prediction
that
she
might
never
go
back
to
her
own
country
;
the
second
was
all
that
extraordinary
talk
about
her
pearls
.
As
to
the
promised
lover
,
the
memory
of
the
soothsayer
's
words
made
her
feel
very
angry
.
No
doubt
Frenchwomen
liked
that
sort
of
innuendo
,
but
it
only
disgusted
her
.
Yet
it
was
really
very
strange
that
Madame
Cagliostra
had
known
,
or
rather
had
divined
,
that
she
possessed
a
necklace
by
which
she
laid
great
store
.
But
was
n't
there
such
a
thing
as
telepathy
?
Is
n't
it
supposed
by
some
people
that
fortune-tellers
simply
see
into
the
minds
of
those
who
come
to
them
,
and
then
arrange
what
they
see
there
according
to
their
fancy
?
That
,
of
course
,
would
entirely
account
for
all
that
the
fortune-teller
had
said
about
her
pearls
.
Sylvia
always
felt
a
little
uncomfortable
when
her
pearls
were
not
lying
round
her
pretty
neck
.
The
first
time
she
had
left
them
in
the
hotel
bureau
,
at
her
new
friend
's
request
,
was
when
they
had
been
together
to
some
place
of
amusement
at
night
,
and
she
had
felt
quite
miserable
,
quite
lost
without
them
.
She
had
even
caught
herself
wondering
whether
M
.
Girard
was
perfectly
honest
,
whether
she
could
trust
him
not
to
have
her
dear
pearls
changed
by
some
clever
jeweller
,
though
,
to
be
sure
,
she
felt
she
would
have
known
her
string
of
pearls
anywhere
!
But
what
was
this
that
was
going
on
between
the
other
two
?
Madame
Cagliostra
dealt
out
the
pack
of
cards
in
a
slow
,
deliberate
fashion
—
and
then
she
uttered
a
kind
of
low
hoarse
cry
,
and
mixed
the
cards
all
together
,
hurriedly
.
Getting
up
from
the
table
,
she
exclaimed
,
"
I
regret
,
Madame
,
that
I
can
tell
you
nothing
—
nothing
at
all
!
I
feel
ill
—
very
ill
!
"
and
,
indeed
,
she
had
turned
,
even
to
Sylvia
's
young
and
unobservant
eyes
,
terribly
pale
.
For
some
moments
the
soothsayer
stood
staring
into
Anna
Wolsky
's
astonished
face
.
"
I
know
I
've
disappointed
you
,
Mesdames
,
but
I
hope
this
will
not
prevent
your
telling
your
friends
of
my
powers
.
Allow
me
to
assure
you
that
it
is
not
often
that
I
am
taken
in
this
way
!
"
Her
voice
had
dropped
to
a
whisper
.
She
was
now
gazing
down
at
the
pack
of
cards
which
lay
on
the
table
with
a
look
of
horror
and
oppression
on
her
face
.
"
I
will
only
charge
five
francs
,
"
she
muttered
at
last
,
"
for
I
know
that
I
have
not
satisfied
you
.
"
Sylvia
sprang
to
the
window
.
She
tore
apart
the
curtains
and
pulled
up
the
sash
.
"
No
wonder
the
poor
woman
feels
faint
,
"
she
said
quickly
.
"
It
's
absurd
to
sit
with
a
window
tight
shut
in
this
kind
of
room
,
which
is
little
more
than
a
box
with
three
people
in
it
!
"
Madame
Cagliostra
had
sunk
down
into
her
chair
again
.
"
I
must
beg
you
to
go
away
,
Mesdames
,
"
she
muttered
,
faintly
.
"
Five
francs
is
all
I
ask
of
you
.
"
But
Anna
Wolsky
was
behaving
in
what
appeared
to
Sylvia
a
very
strange
manner
.
She
walked
round
to
where
the
fortune-teller
was
sitting
.
"
You
saw
something
in
the
cards
which
you
do
not
wish
to
tell
me
?
"
she
said
imperiously
.
"
I
do
not
mind
being
told
the
truth
.
I
am
not
a
child
.
"
"
I
swear
I
saw
nothing
!
"
cried
the
Frenchwoman
angrily
.
"
I
am
too
ill
to
see
anything
.
The
cards
were
to
me
perfectly
blank
!
"
In
the
bright
sunlight
now
pouring
into
the
little
room
the
soothsayer
looked
ghastly
,
her
skin
had
turned
a
greenish
white
.
"
Mesdames
,
I
beg
you
to
excuse
me
,
"
she
said
again
.
"
If
you
do
not
wish
to
give
me
the
five
francs
,
I
will
not
exact
any
fee
.
"
She
pointed
with
a
shaking
finger
to
the
door
,
and
Sylvia
put
a
five-franc
piece
down
on
the
table
.
But
before
her
visitors
had
quite
groped
their
way
to
the
end
of
the
short
,
steep
staircase
,
they
heard
a
cry
.
"
Mesdames
!
"
then
after
a
moment
's
pause
,
"
Mesdames
,
I
implore
you
to
come
back
!
"
They
looked
at
one
another
,
and
then
Anna
,
putting
her
finger
to
her
lips
,
went
back
up
the
stairs
,
alone
.
"
Well
,
"
she
said
,
briefly
,
"
I
knew
you
had
something
to
tell
me
.
What
is
it
?
"
"
No
,
"
said
Madame
Cagliostra
dully
.
"
I
must
have
the
other
lady
here
,
too
.
You
must
both
be
present
to
hear
what
I
have
to
say
.
"
Anna
went
to
the
door
and
called
out
,
"
Come
up
Sylvia
!
She
wants
to
see
us
both
together
.
"
There
was
a
thrill
of
excitement
,
of
eager
expectancy
in
Madame
Wolsky
's
voice
;
and
Sylvia
,
surprised
,
ran
up
again
into
the
little
room
,
now
full
of
light
,
sun
,
and
air
.
"
Stand
side
by
side
,
"
ordered
the
soothsayer
shortly
.
She
stared
at
them
for
a
moment
,
and
then
she
said
with
extreme
earnestness
:
—
"
I
dare
not
let
you
go
away
without
giving
you
a
warning
.
Your
two
fates
are
closely
intertwined
.
Do
not
leave
Paris
for
awhile
,
especially
do
not
leave
Paris
together
.
I
see
you
both
running
into
terrible
danger
!
If
you
do
go
away
—
and
I
greatly
fear
that
you
will
do
so
—
then
I
advise
you
,
together
and
separately
,
to
return
to
Paris
as
soon
as
possible
.
"
"
One
question
I
must
ask
of
you
,
"
said
Anna
Wolsky
urgently
.
"
How
goes
my
luck
?
You
know
what
I
mean
?
I
play
!
"
"
It
is
not
your
luck
that
is
threatened
,
"
replied
the
fortune-teller
,
solemnly
;
"
on
the
contrary
,
I
see
wonderful
luck
;
packets
of
bank-notes
and
rouleaux
of
gold
!
It
is
not
your
luck
—
it
is
something
far
,
far
more
important
that
is
in
peril
.
Something
which
means
far
more
to
you
even
than
your
luck
!
"
The
Polish
woman
smiled
rather
sadly
.
"
I
wonder
what
that
can
be
?
"
she
exclaimed
.
"
It
is
your
life
!
"
"
My
life
?
"
echoed
Anna
.
"
I
do
not
know
that
I
value
my
life
as
much
as
you
think
I
do
.
"
"
The
English
have
a
proverb
,
Madame
,
which
says
:
'
A
short
life
and
a
merry
one
.
'
"
"
Can
you
predict
that
I
shall
have
,
if
a
short
life
,
then
a
merry
one
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
said
Madame
Cagliostra
,
"
that
I
can
promise
you
.
"
But
there
was
no
smile
on
her
pale
face
.
"
And
more
,
I
can
predict
—
if
you
will
only
follow
my
advice
,
if
you
do
not
leave
Paris
for
,
say
"
—
she
hesitated
a
moment
,
as
if
making
a
silent
calculation
—
"
twelve
weeks
,
I
can
predict
you
,
if
not
so
happy
a
life
,
then
a
long
life
and
a
fairly
merry
one
.
Will
you
take
my
advice
,
Madame
?
"
she
went
on
,
almost
threateningly
.
"
Believe
me
,
I
do
not
often
offer
advice
to
my
clients
.
It
is
not
my
business
to
do
so
.
But
I
should
have
been
a
wicked
woman
had
I
not
done
so
this
time
.
That
is
why
I
called
you
back
.
"
"
Is
it
because
of
something
you
have
seen
in
the
cards
that
you
tender
us
this
advice
?
"
asked
Anna
curiously
.
But
Madame
Cagliostra
again
looked
strangely
frightened
.
"
No
,
no
!
"
she
said
hastily
.
"
I
repeat
that
the
cards
told
me
nothing
.
The
cards
were
a
blank
.
I
could
see
nothing
in
them
.
But
,
of
course
,
we
do
not
only
tell
fortunes
by
cards
"
—
she
spoke
very
quickly
and
rather
confusedly
.
"
There
is
such
a
thing
as
a
premonition
.
"
She
waited
a
moment
,
and
then
,
in
a
business-like
tone
,
added
,
"
And
now
I
leave
the
question
of
the
fee
to
the
generosity
of
these
ladies
!
"
Madame
Wolsky
smiled
a
little
grimly
,
and
pulled
out
a
twenty-franc
piece
.
The
woman
bowed
,
and
murmured
her
thanks
.
When
they
were
out
again
into
the
roughly
paved
little
street
,
Anna
suddenly
began
to
laugh
.
"
Now
,
is
n't
that
a
typical
Frenchwoman
?
She
really
did
feel
ill
,
she
really
saw
nothing
in
my
cards
,
and
,
being
an
honest
woman
,
she
did
not
feel
that
she
could
ask
us
to
pay
!
Then
,
when
we
had
gone
away
,
leaving
only
five
francs
,
her
thrift
got
the
better
of
her
honesty
;
she
felt
she
had
thrown
away
ten
good
francs
!
She
therefore
called
us
back
,
and
gave
us
what
she
took
to
be
very
excellent
advice
.
You
see
,
I
had
told
her
that
I
am
a
gambler
.
She
knows
,
as
we
all
know
,
that
to
play
for
money
is
a
foolish
thing
to
do
.
She
is
aware
that
in
Paris
it
is
not
very
easy
for
a
stranger
to
obtain
admittance
—
especially
if
that
stranger
be
a
respectable
woman
—
to
a
gambling
club
.
She
therefore
said
to
herself
,
'
I
will
give
this
lady
far
more
than
ten
francs
'
worth
of
advice
.
I
will
tell
her
not
to
go
away
!
As
long
as
she
remains
in
Paris
she
cannot
lose
her
money
.
If
she
goes
to
Dieppe
,
Trouville
,
any
place
where
there
is
a
Casino
,
she
will
lose
her
money
.
Therefore
I
am
giving
her
invaluable
advice
—
worth
far
more
than
the
ten
francs
which
she
ought
to
be
made
to
give
me
,
and
which
she
shall
be
made
to
give
me
!
'
"
"
I
suppose
you
are
right
,
"
said
Sylvia
thoughtfully
.
"
And
yet
—
and
yet
—
she
certainly
spoke
very
seriously
,
did
she
not
,
Anna
?
She
seemed
quite
honestly
—
in
fact
,
terribly
afraid
that
we
should
go
away
together
.
"
"
But
there
is
no
idea
of
our
going
away
together
,
"
said
Madame
Wolsky
,
rather
crossly
.
"
I
only
wish
there
were
!
You
are
going
on
to
Switzerland
to
join
your
friends
,
and
as
for
me
,
in
spite
of
Madame
Cagliostra
's
mysterious
predictions
,
I
shall
,
of
course
,
go
to
some
place
—
I
think
it
will
be
Dieppe
(
I
like
the
Dieppe
Casino
the
best
)
—
where
I
can
play
.
And
the
memory
of
you
,
my
dear
little
English
friend
,
will
be
my
mascot
.
You
heard
her
say
that
I
should
be
fortunate
—
that
I
should
have
an
extraordinary
run
of
good
fortune
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
said
Sylvia
,
"
but
do
not
forget
"
—
she
spoke
with
a
certain
gravity
;
death
was
a
very
real
thing
to
her
,
for
she
had
seen
in
the
last
two
years
two
deathbeds
,
that
of
her
father
,
that
of
her
husband
—
"
do
not
forget
,
Anna
,
that
she
told
you
you
would
not
live
long
if
you
went
away
.
"
"
She
was
quite
safe
in
saying
that
to
me
,
"
replied
the
other
hastily
.
"
People
who
play
—
those
who
get
the
gambling
fever
into
their
system
when
they
are
still
young
—
do
not
,
as
a
rule
,
live
very
long
.
Their
emotions
are
too
strong
,
too
often
excited
!
Play
should
be
reserved
for
the
old
—
the
old
get
so
quickly
deadened
,
they
do
not
go
through
the
terrible
moments
younger
people
do
!
"
CHAPTER
III
On
the
morning
after
her
visit
to
Madame
Cagliostra
,
Sylvia
Bailey
woke
later
than
usual
.
She
had
had
a
disturbed
night
,
and
it
was
pleasant
to
feel
that
she
could
spend
a
long
restful
day
doing
nothing
,
or
only
taking
part
in
one
of
the
gay
little
expeditions
which
make
Paris
to
a
stranger
the
most
delightful
of
European
capitals
.
She
opened
wide
both
the
windows
of
her
room
,
and
from
outside
there
floated
in
a
busy
,
happy
murmur
,
for
Paris
is
an
early
city
,
and
nine
o'clock
there
is
equivalent
to
eleven
o'clock
in
London
.
She
heard
the
picturesque
street
cries
of
the
flower-sellers
in
the
Avenue
de
l'Opéra
—
"
Beflower
yourselves
,
gentlemen
and
ladies
,
beflower
yourselves
!
"
The
gay
,
shrill
sounds
floated
in
to
her
,
and
,
in
spite
of
her
bad
night
and
ugly
dreams
,
she
felt
extraordinarily
well
and
happy
.
Cities
are
like
people
.
In
some
cities
one
feels
at
home
at
once
;
others
remain
,
however
well
acquainted
we
become
with
them
,
always
strangers
.
Sylvia
Bailey
,
born
,
bred
,
married
,
widowed
in
an
English
provincial
town
,
had
always
felt
strange
in
London
.
But
with
Paris
,
—
dear
,
delightful
,
sunny
Paris
,
—
she
had
become
on
the
closest
,
the
most
affectionately
intimate
terms
from
the
first
day
.
She
had
only
been
here
a
month
,
and
yet
she
already
knew
with
familiar
knowledge
the
quarter
in
which
was
situated
her
quiet
little
hotel
,
that
wonderful
square
mile
—
it
is
not
more
—
which
has
as
its
centre
the
Paris
Opera
House
,
and
which
includes
the
Rue
de
la
Paix
and
the
beginning
of
each
of
the
great
arteries
of
modern
Paris
.
And
that
was
not
all
.
Sylvia
Bailey
knew
something
of
the
France
of
the
past
.
The
quiet
,
clever
,
old-fashioned
Frenchwoman
by
whom
she
had
been
educated
had
seen
to
that
.
She
could
wander
through
the
narrow
streets
on
the
other
side
of
the
Seine
,
and
reconstitute
the
amazing
,
moving
,
tragic
things
which
happened
there
during
the
great
Revolution
.
She
was
now
half
sorry
to
think
that
in
ten
days
or
so
she
had
promised
to
join
some
acquaintances
in
Switzerland
.
Luckily
her
trustee
and
would-be
lover
,
Bill
Chester
,
proposed
to
come
out
and
join
the
party
there
.
That
was
something
to
look
forward
to
,
for
Sylvia
was
very
fond
of
him
,
though
he
sometimes
made
her
angry
by
his
fussy
ways
.
Chester
had
not
approved
of
her
going
to
Paris
by
herself
,
and
he
would
certainly
have
shaken
his
head
had
he
known
of
yesterday
's
visit
to
Madame
Cagliostra
.
And
then
Sylvia
Bailey
began
to
think
of
her
new
friend
:
of
Anna
Wolsky
.
She
was
sorry
,
very
sorry
,
that
they
were
going
to
part
so
soon
.
If
only
Anna
would
consent
to
come
on
with
her
to
Switzerland
!
But
alas
!
there
was
no
chance
of
that
,
for
there
are
no
Casinos
,
no
gambling
,
in
the
land
of
William
Tell
.
There
came
a
knock
at
the
door
,
and
Madame
Wolsky
walked
in
.
She
was
dressed
for
a
journey
.
"
I
have
to
go
out
of
town
this
morning
,
"
she
said
,
"
but
the
place
I
am
going
to
is
quite
near
,
and
I
shall
be
back
this
afternoon
.
"
"
Where
are
you
going
?
"
asked
Sylvia
,
naïvely
.
"
Or
is
it
a
secret
?
"
"
No
,
it
is
not
a
secret
.
"
Anna
smiled
provokingly
.
"
I
am
going
to
go
to
a
place
called
Lacville
.
I
do
not
suppose
you
have
ever
heard
of
Lacville
,
Sylvia
?
"
The
other
shook
her
head
.
"
I
thought
not
,
"
cried
Anna
,
suddenly
bursting
out
laughing
.
Then
,
"
Good-bye
!
"
she
exclaimed
,
and
she
was
gone
before
Sylvia
could
say
anything
else
.
Lacville
?
There
had
been
a
sparkle
,
a
look
of
life
,
of
energy
in
Anna
's
face
.
Why
was
Anna
Wolsky
going
to
Lacville
?
There
was
something
about
the
place
concerning
which
she
had
chosen
to
be
mysterious
,
and
yet
she
had
made
no
secret
of
going
there
.
Mrs.
Bailey
jumped
out
of
bed
,
and
dressed
rather
more
quickly
than
usual
.
It
was
a
very
hot
day
.
In
fact
,
it
was
unpleasantly
hot
.
How
delightful
it
would
be
to
get
into
the
country
even
for
an
hour
.
Why
should
she
not
also
make
her
way
to
Lacville
?
She
opened
the
"
Guide-Book
to
Paris
and
its
Environs
,
"
of
which
she
had
made
such
good
use
in
the
last
month
,
and
looked
up
"
Lacville
"
in
the
index
.
Situated
within
a
drive
of
the
beautiful
Forest
of
Montmorency
,
the
pretty
little
town
of
Lacville
is
still
famed
for
its
healing
springs
and
during
the
summer
months
of
the
year
is
much
frequented
by
Parisians
.
There
are
frequent
trains
from
the
Gare
du
Nord
.
No
kind
fairy
whispered
the
truth
to
Sylvia
—
namely
that
this
account
is
only
half
,
nay
,
a
quarter
,
or
an
eighth
,
of
the
truth
.
Lacville
is
the
spendthrift
,
the
gambler
—
the
austere
would
call
her
the
chartered
libertine
—
of
the
group
of
pretty
country
towns
which
encircle
Paris
;
for
Lacville
is
in
the
proud
possession
of
a
Gambling
Concession
which
has
gradually
turned
what
was
once
the
quietest
of
inland
watering-places
into
a
miniature
Monte
Carlo
.
The
vast
majority
of
intelligent
,
cultivated
English
and
American
visitors
to
Paris
remain
quite
unaware
that
there
is
,
within
half
an
hour
of
the
French
capital
,
such
a
spot
;
the
minority
,
those
tourists
who
do
make
their
way
to
the
alluring
little
place
,
generally
live
to
regret
it
.
But
Sylvia
knew
nothing
,
nay
,
less
than
nothing
,
of
all
this
,
and
even
if
she
had
known
,
it
would
not
have
stayed
her
steps
to-day
.
She
put
on
her
hat
and
hurried
down
to
the
office
.
There
M
.
Girard
would
doubtless
tell
her
of
a
good
train
to
Lacville
,
and
if
it
were
a
small
place
she
might
easily
run
across
Anna
Wolsky
.
M
.
Girard
was
a
very
busy
man
,
yet
he
always
found
time
for
a
talk
with
any
foreign
client
of
his
hotel
.
"
I
want
to
know
,
"
said
Sylvia
,
smiling
in
spite
of
herself
,
for
the
hotel-keeper
was
such
a
merry-looking
little
man
,
and
so
utterly
different
from
any
English
hotel-keeper
she
had
ever
seen
!
—
"
I
want
to
know
,
M
.
Girard
,
which
is
the
best
way
to
a
place
called
Lacville
?
Have
you
ever
been
there
?
"
"
Lacville
?
"
echoed
M
.
Girard
delightedly
;
but
there
came
a
rather
funny
look
over
his
shrewd
,
round
face
.
"
Yes
,
indeed
,
I
have
been
there
,
Madame
!
Not
this
season
yet
,
but
often
last
summer
,
and
I
shall
be
going
there
shortly
again
.
I
have
a
friend
there
—
indeed
,
he
is
more
than
a
friend
,
he
is
a
relation
of
mine
,
who
keeps
the
most
select
hotel
at
Lacville
.
It
is
called
the
Villa
du
Lac
.
Is
Madame
thinking
of
going
to
Lacville
instead
of
to
Switzerland
?
"
Sylvia
shook
her
head
.
"
Oh
,
no
!
But
Madame
Wolsky
is
there
to-day
,
and
I
should
have
gone
with
her
if
I
had
been
ready
when
she
came
down
.
It
has
turned
so
hot
that
I
feel
a
few
hours
in
the
country
would
be
pleasant
,
and
I
am
quite
likely
to
meet
her
,
for
I
suppose
Lacville
is
not
a
very
large
place
,
M
.
Girard
?
"
The
hotel-keeper
hesitated
;
he
found
it
really
difficult
to
give
a
true
