mission to tell you frankly and plainly that it is not a place to which you ought to have been brought."
He spoke with great emphasis.
Sylvia looked up at him. She was bewildered, and though not exactly offended, rather hurt.
"But why?" she asked plaintively. "Why should I not stay at Lacville?"
"Oh, well, there can be no harm in your staying on a few days if you are desirous of doing so. But Lacville is not a place where I should care for my own sister to come and stay." He went on, speaking much quicker—"Indeed, I will say more! I will tell you that Lacville may seem a paradise to you, but that it is a paradise full of snakes."
"Snakes?" repeated Sylvia slowly. "You mean, of course, human snakes?"
He bowed gravely.
"Every town where reigns the Goddess of play attracts reptiles, Madame, as the sun attracts lizards! It is not the game that does so, or even the love of play in the Goddess's victims; no, it is the love of gold!"
Sylvia noticed that he had grown curiously pale.
"Lacville as a gambling centre counts only next to Monte Carlo. But whereas many people go to Monte Carlo for health, and for various forms of amusement, people only come here in order to play, and to see others play. The Casino, which doubtless appears to you a bright, pretty place, has been the scene and the cause of many a tragedy. Do you know how Paris regards Lacville?" he asked searchingly.
"No—yes," Sylvia hesitated. "You see I never heard of Lacville till about a week ago." Innate honesty com-
