No, that was incredible.

"I think there must be some mistake," he said distantly. "I do not think
that Mrs. Bailey is a member of a club."

M. Polperro looked very much surprised.

"Oh, yes, indeed she is," he answered confidently. "It is only the quite
common people who content themselves, M'sieur, with risking a franc and
playing the little games. But just as M'sieur likes--" he shrugged his
shoulders. "I do not press M'sieur to become a member of the Club."

Without answering, Chester paid the couple of francs admission for
himself and his companion, and they walked slowly through the lower
rooms, threading their way through the crowd.

"You see, M'sieur, I was right! Madame Bailey is in the Club!"

"Very well. Let us go to the Club," said Chester, impatiently.

He was beginning, or so he thought, to understand. The Club was evidently
a quiet, select part of the Casino, with a reading room and so on. Sylvia
had probably made friends with some French people in her hotel, and they
had persuaded her to join the Club.

He was beginning to throw off his tiredness; the unaccustomed atmosphere
in which he found himself amused and interested, even if it rather
shocked him.

Ten minutes later he also, thanks to the kind offices of M. Polperro, and
by the payment of twenty francs, found himself a member of the Club; free
of that inner sanctuary where the devotees of the fickle goddess play
with gold instead of silver; and where, as even Chester could see, the
people who stood round the table, risking with quiet, calculating eyes
their twenty-franc pieces and bank-notes, were of a very different social
standing from the merry, careless crowd downstairs.

In the Baccarat Room most of the men were in evening clothes, and
the women with them, if to Chester's eyes by no means desirable or
reputable-looking companions, were young, pretty, and beautifully
dressed.

Still, the English lawyer felt a thrill of disgust at the thought that
Sylvia Bailey could possibly be part of such a company.

Baccarat was being played at both tables, but the crowd of players
centred rather round one than the other, as is almost always the way.

M. Polperro touched his companion on the arm. "And now, M'sieur," he said
briefly, "I will with your permission depart home. I think you will find
Madame Bailey at that further table."

Chester shook the owner of the Villa du Lac cordially by the hand. The
little man had been really kind and he