"I also am leaving Lacville," said the Comte de Virieu.
And then, as he saw, or fancied he saw, a satirical expression pass over the Englishman's face, he added rather haughtily:
"Strange to say, my luck turned last night—I admit I did not deserve it—and I left off with a good deal to the good. However, I feel I have played enough for a while, and, as I have been telling Mrs. Bailey, I think it would do me good to go away. In fact"—and then Count Paul gave an odd little laugh—"I also am going to Switzerland! In old days I was a member of our Alpine Club."
Chester made a sudden resolve, and, what was rare in one so constitutionally prudent, acted on it at once.
"If you are really going to Switzerland," he said quietly, "then why should we not travel together? I meant to go to-night, but if you prefer to wait till to-morrow, Count, I can alter my arrangements."
The Comte de Virieu remained silent for what seemed to the two waiting for his answer a very long time.
"This evening will suit me just as well as to-morrow," he said at last.
He did not look at Sylvia. He had not looked her way since Chester had joined them. With a hand that shook a little he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, and held it out to the other man.
The die was cast. So be it. Chester, prig though he might be, was right in his wish to remove Sylvia from his, Paul de Virieu's, company. The Englishman was more right than he would ever know.
