She looked round her; there was anxiety and watchful suspense on all the eager faces. The Comte de Virieu alone looked indifferent.
A moment later four gold pieces were added to the four already there.
"You had better take up your winnings, or someone may claim them," muttered Anna anxiously.
"Oh, but I don't like to do that," said Sylvia.
"Of course you must!"
She put out her hand and took up her four gold pieces, leaving those of the Count on the table. Then suddenly she put back the eighty francs on the cloth, and smiled up at him; it was a gay little shame-faced smile. "Please don't be cross with me, kind friend,"—that is what Sylvia's smile seemed to say to Paul de Virieu—"but this is so very exciting!"
He felt stirred to the heart. How sweet, how confidingly simple she looked! And—and how very beautiful. He at once loved and hated to see her there, his new little "amie Anglaise!"
"Are you going to leave the whole of it on this time?" whispered Anna.
"Yes, I think I will. It's rather fun. After all, I'm only risking twenty francs!" whispered back Sylvia.
And once more she won.
"What a pity you didn't start playing with a hundred francs! Think of how rich you would be now," said Anna, with the true gambler's instinct. "But it is clear, child, that you are going to do well this evening, and I shall follow your luck! Take the money off now, however."
