shrugged his shoulders impatiently. She
must indeed be dwelling in his thoughts if he thus involuntarily evoked
her presence where she could by no stretch of possibility be.

But that wandering echo brought Sylvia Bailey very near to Chester, and
once more he recalled her as he had seen her sitting at the gambling
table the night before.

In grotesque juxtaposition he remembered, together with that picture of
Sylvia as he had seen her last night, the case of a respectable old lady,
named Mrs. Meeks, the widow of a clergyman who had had a living in the
vicinity of Market Dalling.

Not long after her husband's death this old lady--she had about three
hundred a year, and Chester had charge of her money matters--went abroad
for a few weeks to Mentone. Those few weeks had turned Mrs. Meeks into
a confirmed gambler. She now lived entirely at Monte Carlo in one small
room.

He could not help remembering now the kind of remarks that were made by
the more prosperous inhabitants of Market Dalling, his fellow citizens,
when they went off for a short holiday to the South, in January or
February. They would see this poor lady, this Mrs. Meeks, wandering round
the gaming tables, and the sight would amuse and shock them. Chester knew
that one of the first things said to him after the return of such people
would be, "Who d'you think I saw at Monte Carlo? Why, Mrs. Meeks, of
course! It's enough to make her husband turn in his grave."

And now he told himself ruefully that it would be enough to make honest
George Bailey turn in his grave could he see his pretty, sheltered Sylvia
sitting in the Casino at Lacville, surrounded by the riffraff collected
there last night, and actually taking an active part in the game as well
as risking her money with business-like intentness.

He wondered if he could persuade Sylvia to leave Lacville soon. In any
case he would himself stay on here three or four days--he had meant only
to stay twenty-four hours, for he was on his way to join a friend whose
Swiss holiday was limited. The sensible thing for Sylvia to do would be
to go back to England.

* * * * *

Chester reached the Villa du Lac at half-past eleven and as he went out
into the charming garden where he was told he would find Mrs. Bailey he
told himself that Lacville was not without some innocent attractions. But
Mrs. Bailey was not alone in this lovely garden. Sitting on the lawn by
her was the Frenchman w