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Updated: May 19, 2025
He does not like them, and they know it. He thinks them vulgar sort of people, and he suspects that Monsieur Wachner is German that is quite enough for him." "But, after all, it does not really matter what the Wachners think of the Comte de Virieu, or what he thinks of them," said Anna. "What matters is what you think of him, and what he thinks of you."
"But I do not think that any of it is likely to melt into Fritz's pocket though, to be sure, we 'ave been very lucky, all of us, to-night," she looked affectionately at Sylvia. "Even you, Sir" Madame Wachner turned to Chester with a broad smile "even you must be pleased that we came to the Casino to-night. What a pity it is you did not risk something! Even one pound!
If I had wished her to go away, I should not have encouraged her to leave all her luggage behind her!" he spoke with the sarcastic emphasis of which the French are masters. Sylvia grew very red. As a matter of fact, it had been Madame Wachner who had suggested that idea to her.
Even the path leading up to the side of the house, where jutted out a mean-looking door, was covered with weeds. But Madame Wachner was evidently very pleased with her temporary home, and quite satisfied with its surroundings. "It is a pretty 'ouse, is it not?" she asked in English, and smiling broadly. "And only one thousand francs, furnished, for the 'ole season!"
"I couldn't think what had happened to you!" she exclaimed in an anxious tone. "But here is your membership card, Sylvia. Now you are free of the Baccarat tables!" Monsieur Wachner met his wife with a frowning face. He might be pleased to see Madame Wachner, but he showed his pleasure in an odd manner.
It was exactly two minutes; and when at last the door opened, slowly, and revealed the tall, lanky figure of L'Ami Fritz, they both heard the soft, shuffling tread of the gendarmes closing in round the house. "I pray you to come in," said Monsieur Wachner in English, and then, addressing Bill Chester, "I am pleased to see you, sir, the more so that your friend, Mrs. Bailey, is indisposed.
She put the cup down, and pushed it away. "Please do not ask me to take it," she said firmly. "It really is very bad for me!" Madame Wachner shrugged her shoulders with an angry gesture. "So be it," she said, and then imperiously, "Fritz, will you please come with me for a moment into the next room? I have something to ask you." He got up and silently obeyed his wife.
"I am sure that Madame Wachner would wish me to do so," she said, smiling; and after a rather ungracious pause the woman admitted her into the house, leading the way into the darkened dining-room. "Do you think it will be long before Madame Wachner comes back?" asked Sylvia. The woman hesitated "I cannot tell you that," she mumbled. "They never say when they are going, or when they will be back.
"There is no need at all for us to take you out of your way. You had better drive at once into the open country, Sylvia." And so they all started, Madame Wolsky and her tall, gaunt, morose companion, walking, while Sylvia and Madame Wachner drove off in the opposite direction.
She would have been angry indeed had the truth been whispered to her, the truth that it was not so much her little daily gamble as Madame Wachner called it that made Sylvia so faithful an attendant at the Club; it was because when there she was still with Paul de Virieu, she could see and sympathise with him when he was winning, and grieve when he was losing, as alas! he often lost.
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