"It might bring us ill-luck!" And then Chester broke in, "Sylvia, do play if you want to play!" he cried rather impatiently.

It angered him to feel that she would not do in his presence what she would most certainly have done were he not there.
And then Sylvia suddenly made up her mind that she would play.

Count Paul was holding the Bank.

He was risking--how much was it ?--twenty thousand francs.

Eight hundred pounds of his legacy?
That was madness, absolute madness on his part! Well, she would gamble too! There came across her a curious feeling--one that gave her a certain painful joy--the feeling that they two were one.