heek, but the white
forehead and neck of his fair English friend.

Sylvia went on speaking, a little quickly.

"She said almost the same thing to Anna. Wasn't that odd? I mean she said
that Anna would probably never go back to her own country. But what was
really very strange was that she did not seem to be able to see into
Anna's future at all. And then--oh well, she behaved very oddly. After
we had gone she called us back--" Sylvia stopped for a moment.

"Well?" said Count Paul eagerly. "What happened then?"

He seldom allowed himself the pleasure of looking into Sylvia's blue
eyes. Now he asked for nothing better than that she should go on talking
while he went on looking at her.

"She made us stand side by side--you must understand, Count, that we had
already paid her and gone away--when she called us back. She stared at us
in a very queer sort of way, and said that we must not leave Paris, or if
we did leave Paris, we must not leave together. She said that if we did
so we should run into danger."

"All rather vague," observed the Count. "And, from the little I know of
her, I should fancy Madame Wolsky the last woman in the world to be
really influenced by that kind of thing."

He hardly knew what he was saying. His only wish was that Sylvia would go
on talking to him in the intimate, confiding fashion she was now doing.
Heavens! How wretched, how lonely he had felt in Paris after seeing her
off the day before!

"Oh, but at the time Anna was very much impressed," said Sylvia, quickly.
"Far more than I was--I know it made her nervous when she was first
playing at the tables. And when she lost so much money the first week we
were here she said to me, 'That woman was right. We ought not to have
come to Lacville!' But afterwards, when she began to be so wonderfully
lucky, she forgot all about it, or, rather, she only remembered that the
woman had said to her that she would have a great run of luck."

"Then the woman said that, too," remarked Count Paul, absently.

(What was it his godmother had said? "I felicitate you on your conquest,
naughty Paul!" and he had felt angry, even disgusted, with the old lady's
cynical compliment. She had added, meaningly, "Why not turn over a new
leaf? Why not marry this pretty creature? We should all be pleased to see
you behave like a reasonable human being.")

But Sylvia was answering him.

"Yes, the woman said that Anna would be very lucky."

The Comte de Virieu thought