rente et
quarante' with fair success, but, later, her luck took a marked change
for the worse. I distinctly remember that in a single evening she lost
an enormous sum. But worse was to ensue, for one fine morning her
prince disappeared--horses, carriage, and all. Also, the hotel bill
which he left unpaid was enormous. Upon this Mlle. Zelma (the name
which she assumed after figuring as Madame Barberini) was in despair.
She shrieked and howled all over the hotel, and even tore her clothes
in her frenzy. In the hotel there was staying also a Polish count (you
must know that ALL travelling Poles are counts!), and the spectacle of
Mlle. Zelma tearing her clothes and, catlike, scratching her face with
her beautiful, scented nails produced upon him a strong impression. So
the pair had a talk together, and, by luncheon time, she was consoled.
Indeed, that evening the couple entered the Casino arm-in-arm--Mlle.
Zelma laughing loudly, according to her custom, and showing even more
expansiveness in her manners than she had before shown. For instance,
she thrust her way into the file of women roulette-players in the exact
fashion of those ladies who, to clear a space for themselves at the
tables, push their fellow-players roughly aside. Doubtless you have
noticed them?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Well, they are not worth noticing. To the annoyance of the decent
public they are allowed to remain here--at all events such of them as
daily change 4000 franc notes at the tables (though, as soon as ever
these women cease to do so, they receive an invitation to depart).
However, Mlle. Zelma continued to change notes of this kind, but her
play grew more and more unsuccessful, despite the fact that such
ladies' luck is frequently good, for they have a surprising amount of
cash at their disposal. Suddenly, the Count too disappeared, even as
the Prince had done, and that same evening Mlle. Zelma was forced to
appear in the Casino alone. On this occasion no one offered her a
greeting. Two days later she had come to the end of her resources;
whereupon, after staking and losing her last louis d'or she chanced to
look around her, and saw standing by her side the Baron Burmergelm, who
had been eyeing her with fixed disapproval. To his distaste, however,
Mlle. paid no attention, but, turning to him with her well-known smile,
requested him to stake, on her behalf, ten louis on the red. Later that
evening a complaint from the Baroness led the authorities