mething in their eyes which
they wished to make her understand. She wondered if, by any chance, the
room where she and her husband slept had been theirs, and if between
these walls they had talked over the murder before committing it. She
imagined how they had felt, how they had hated and rebelled against the
idea at first, then accepted it as the one thing left to do. The story
was that the woman had persuaded the man to consent, though he had
refused at first.

One day, after a worse quarrel than any that had gone before, Mrs.
Collis left with Lottie, packing up in a hurry, and driving off to a
hotel. This gave Lady Dauntrey an empty room; and already Dodo had twice
vowed that she too would go. Now, in all probability the Collises would
persuade her to join them; and perhaps an epidemic of departure would
sweep through the villa. Lord Dauntrey had suffered a serious setback;
and all the money received from the guests was needed to retrieve this
accident. Dom Ferdinand had lost so much that he could not pay at all
until a further remittance came to him; and as odd stories of the
household had leaked out through dissatisfied servants, several
tradesmen had begun to make themselves objectionable. Strangers are not
trusted in the shops at Monte Carlo, and the butcher threatened to send
no more meat to the Bella Vista unless he were paid what was owing.

This happened when the Dauntreys had been in their villa three weeks;
and that same afternoon at the Casino Lady Dauntrey spoke to Mary Grant.
It was then two days before Christmas.

Often she had looked at Mary and felt inclined to speak, but always
something had happened to prevent, or else Dodo or the Collises had been
near, and she had known that they would say to each other, "Look at the
woman making up to that girl now because she's winning such a lot. Any
one who's got money is good enough for her." But this time the
conversation came about easily, as though it were meant to be. She was
watching Mary's play, standing behind the next chair. Suddenly a man
occupying the chair got up and went away from the table. Instantly Lady
Dauntrey dropped into the vacant place, as if she had been waiting for
it.

She did not really wish to play, though she liked gambling, for she had
been unlucky in the small game she had attempted, and had grown
cautious, anxious to keep what she had. But on a crowded night it is
almost obligatory to play if one has annexed a chair which man