"It's only the gold that is heavy!" But she was not thinking of what she was saying.

Her heart was full of anguish.

How could Paul de Virieu have been so mad as to risk such an immense sum, a tenth part of the fortune--for fortune it was--which had just been left to him?
Sylvia hated herself for having contributed to his losses.

She knew that it was absurd that she should feel this, for the same cards would certainly have been dealt to whoever had happened to take them from the _croupier_.

But still, superstition is part of the virus which fills the gambler's blood, and she had certainly won a considerable part of the money Count Paul had lost to-night.
"May I see you back to your house ?" asked Chester of Madame Wachner.
"Oh no, Monsieur, I must go hack to the Casino and look after Fritz! 'E is a child--quite a child as regards money." Madame Wachner sighed heavily.