They immediately stepped into another world—brilliant lights, ice tinkling against glasses, a fog of tobacco smoke, and the low, monotonous voice of the bankers at the two roulette tables in the high-ceilinged living room opening from the foyer hall. There were possibly a dozen people, mixed men and women and for the most part rich New Yorkers from the neighboring summer estates, already at play when Lucy's party arrived. Lucy led the way to the least heavily patronized table. The thick-jowled, gray-haired proprietor nodded to her as she passed but not without bestowing a searching glance at her companions.
Lucy's party watched a turn of the wheel in silence. The thin voice of the croupier, silence, then the swish of the disks being drawn toward him. Rao-Singh bought two hundred dollars' worth of chips and pushed half of them toward Carmelita without a word. Her eyes were shining. It must be terribly thrilling to play and win.
"Try your luck," the Prince was suggest-
