"But she meant to give up play till Monday," said Sylvia, eagerly. "I feel sure she never went inside the Casino yesterday."
"Oh, but she did. My 'usband saw her there."
"At what time?" asked Sylvia, eagerly.
"Let me see"
"Of course, it must have been early, as you were back waiting for her late in the afternoon."
"Yes, it must have been early. And once in the Casino!—well, dear friend, you know as well as I do that with Madame Wolsky the money flies! Still, let us suppose she did not lose 'er money yesterday. In that case surely Madame Wolsky would 'ave done well to leave Lacville with 'er gains in 'er pocket-book."
Madame Wachner was leaning back in the car, a ruminating smile on her broad, good-tempered face.
She was thoroughly enjoying the rush through the air. It was very hot, and she disliked walking. Her morose husband very seldom allowed her to take a cab. He generally forced her to walk to the Casino and back.
Something of a philosopher was Madame Wachner, always accepting with eager, out-stretched hands that with which the gods provided her.
And all at once pretty Sylvia Bailey, though unobservant as happy, prosperous youth so often is, conceived the impression that her companion did not at all wish to discuss Anna's sudden departure. Madame Wachner had evidently been very much annoyed by Anna's lack of civility, and surely the least Anna could have done would have been to send a message saying that it was impossible for her to come to supper at the Châlet des Muguets!
