of commonplace appearance had perhaps listened to more
harrowing stories of human misery and ruin than any other person in the
world. Even the most popular father confessor of the church could
scarcely have heard as many agonizing appeals. He must be able to
discriminate between truth and falsehood, to read faces and judge
voices, for no doubt, as Mary guessed, people must often come to him
swearing they had lost many thousands of francs, when in reality their
losses amounted only to a few hundreds.

Dauntrey, whose hand was unsteady, held out his season card of admission
to the Casino. "I suppose you know who I am," he said.

The man in the black coat looked at the name on the card, and inclined
his head slightly as if in affirmation.

"I've lost all I had in the world," Dauntrey went on in a dead voice,
"and all my wife had. I've been here since the beginning of December and
had the most cursed luck. I--Miss Grant will bear me out. She was
staying at our house. You've seen her before no doubt. One of your lucky
ones. You--you'll have to do something decent for me. Unfortunately I've
got into debt--my rent--and tradesmen. No good having a scandal. You've
had a lot out of me--close on ten thousand pounds. You can afford to
give me back 10 per cent., can't you?"

The official's face hardened. He looked a man who could be obdurate as
well as benevolent. "I regret," he replied in English, "that it is
impossible to give any such sum. Nothing like it has ever been granted,
not even to those who have lost great fortunes. If the Casino made such
presents it would cease to exist. And I cannot help thinking that my
lord in excitement exaggerates his losses. I have heard that he has lost
not more than four thousand pounds, and that three fourths of that sum
belonged to his friends, for whom he kindly played. In my lord's case,
two first-class tickets to London----"

"Of no use whatever," Dauntrey broke in sharply. "What would you have me
do when my wife and I get to England without a penny?"

"After all, that is your lordship's affair."

Dauntrey's face crimsoned, and the veins stood out in his temples. Then
the red faded, leaving him yellow pale.

"It will be your affair if I kill myself here, as I shall be driven to
do if you won't help me. My name will cause some little sensation after
I'm dead, if it never made any stir while I lived."

"Couldn't the Casino spare Lord Dauntrey five hundred pounds, at least?"
Mary be