Again and again, she turned up winning numbers—the eight and the ace, the five and the four, the six and the three—every combination which brought luck to the table and confusion to the banker.
Eyes full of adoring admiration, aye and gratitude, were turned on the young Englishwoman. Paul de Virieu alone did not look at her. But he followed her play.
"Now put on a hundred francs," said Anna, authoritatively.
Sylvia looked at her, rather surprised by the advice, but she obeyed it. And still the Comte de Virieu followed her lead.
That made her feel dreadfully nervous and excited—it would be so terrible to make him lose too!
Neither of them lost. On the contrary, ten napoleons were added to the double pile of gold.
And then, after that, it seemed as if the whole table were following Sylvia's game.
"That pretty Englishwoman is playing for the first time!"—so the word went round. And they all began backing her luck with feverish haste.
The banker, a good-looking young Frenchman, stared at Sylvia ruefully. Thanks to her, he was being badly punished. Fortunately, he could afford it.
At the end of half an hour, feeling tired and bewildered by her good fortune, Mrs. Bailey got up and moved away from the table, the possessor of £92. The Comte Virieu had won exactly the same amount.