And—for Chester's quick, legal mind had leapt on the fact—of a gambling club?
No, that was incredible.
"I think there must be some mistake," he said distantly. "I do not think that Mrs. Bailey is a member of a club."
M. Polperro looked very much surprised.
"Oh, yes, indeed she is," he answered confidently. "It is only the quite common people who content themselves, M'sieur, with risking a franc and playing the little games. But just as M'sieur likes—" he shrugged his shoulders. "I do not press M'sieur to become a member of the Club."
Without answering, Chester paid the couple of francs admission for himself and his companion, and they walked slowly through the lower rooms, threading their way through the crowd.
"You see, M'sieur, I was right! Madame Bailey is in the Club!"
"Very well. Let us go to the Club," said Chester, impatiently.
He was beginning, or so he thought, to understand. The Club was evidently a quiet, select part of the Casino, with a reading room and so on. Sylvia had probably made friends with some French people in her hotel, and they had persuaded her to join the Club.
He was beginning to throw off his tiredness; the unaccustomed atmosphere in which he found himself amused and interested, even if it rather shocked him.
Ten minutes later he also, thanks to the kind offices of M. Polperro, and by the payment of twenty francs,
