"Where?" replied the other, without any curiosity.
"To St. Moritz Bad, to the 'Kurhaus,' where the great tenor Caruso is singing for a charity. I have some tickets, also for you. After midnight to the 'Palace.' Paul Fry—you know him—has arrived, the greatest cutter at baccarat, who always cuts a five. There is to be play to-night, when all the ladies have gone to bed. It is to be a great game—most interesting. All those who have no money play hard."
"I can't come," replied Lucio Sabini, stepping into the room, already dressed.
"And why?" asked Francis Mornand, with a little smile.
"Because I have to go elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?" asked the Frenchman.
Again Lucio did not reply. He took from a glass vase a magnificent white rose, a single rose, and placed it in the buttonhole of his dress-suit.
"You are going to the ball at the 'Kulm.' You are very much in love with Miss Lilian Temple," said Francis Mornand kindly, with a slight smile.
Lucio stood still, with lowered eyes, and made no reply.