g man of rather
distinguished appearance, who would in other circumstances no doubt have
yielded place to a woman, especially a young and pretty girl. But he too
had the gambler's fever. He struggled with Mary for the chair, and would
have secured it by superior strength if she had not dropped limply into
it as he drew it out for himself.

"Well done!" muttered a woman already settled in a neighbouring seat.
"That's one of the Pretenders to the throne of Portugal."

Instead of being overawed, Mary found herself laughing in the joy of her
triumph. "He can't have this throne, anyhow," she panted, out of breath.

Then she noticed that Lord Dauntrey was with her defeated rival. He had
secured a chair, but getting up, gave it to the royal personage, who was
his paying guest at the Villa Bella Vista. Lord Dauntrey had not seen,
or had not recognized, Mary. He appeared to be more alive than he had
been before, almost a different man. Though his features were stonily
calm as the features of a mask, Mary felt that he was intensely excited,
and completely absorbed in the game about to begin. He had a notebook
over which his sleek brown head and Dom Ferdinand de Trevanna's short
black curls were bent eagerly. It was evident that they had some plan of
play which they were working out together.

It was just as thrilling, Mary thought, to be in the Casino by day as by
night, and even more interesting now, because she knew how to play,
instead of having to depend upon Madame d'Ambre. She had feared that her
too solicitous friend might be lying in wait for her this morning, but
she need have had no anxiety. Madeleine never appeared before noon.
Perhaps she might have made a superhuman effort had there been
reasonable hope of anything to gain. But Madame d'Ambre had learned to
read faces: and Mary's had told her that for a time there was nothing
more to expect. She would be comfortably lazy while her money held out.

Mary's seat was near the spinner, one of the croupiers who had seen her
sensational wins twelve hours ago. He smiled recognition. "Take zero
again, and the neighbours," he mumbled cautiously. "I'll try and make
you win."

Mary wanted to know what "neighbours" meant, and was told hastily that
they were the numbers lying nearest to zero on the wheel.

"But I feel as if twenty-four would come," she objected.

"Very well, if Mademoiselle prefers twenty-four, I will see what I can
do," replied the obliging croupier, like