“I am entirely ignorant.”
“Well, although a military officer, of late years his chief field of operations has been the trente-et-quarante table at Monte Carlo, where he is as well-known as—well, as the fat old gentleman who sits in the bureau to examine one’s visiting card.”
“A gambler!” he cried, in a tone of disbelief.
“Yes, a gambler,” she went on. “Few men of late years have lost such large sums so recklessly as he has. Once everybody followed his play, believing him to be a sort of wizard who could divine the cards undealt; but at last his ill-luck became proverbial, and after ruining himself he left with Liane and Nelly Bridson and went to England.”
“And Liane? What of her?” he inquired, dismayed that the man he had held in high esteem as a good-hearted, easy-going fellow should actually turn out to be an adventurer.
“Ah! she has led a strange life,” sighed the handsome Frenchwoman. “I have seen her many times, but have seldom spoken much with her. I often met her father in the days of his success, but he for some reason avoided introducing me. Although the circle in which Erle Brooker moved was usually composed of thieves, adventuresses, and the scum of the gambling-hells, he held his daughter aloof from it all. He would never permit her to mix with any of his companions, appearing to entertain a curious suspicion towards even respectable folk, fearing lest she should become contaminated by the world’s wickedness. Thus,” she added, “Liane and her companion Nelly grew to be sweet and altogether ingenuous girls, who were everywhere respected and admired.”
There was a short pause, during which he pondered deeply over the facts his strange visitor had explained. The truth was out at last. Liane was the daughter of an adventurer. He recollected how well she had been dressed when he had met her on the terrace at Monte Carlo, and reflected that her father must be again winning. The reason why she had compelled him to leave her that afternoon, why she had always preserved such a reticence regarding her past life, was now entirely plain. She did not wish that he should know the truth.
“You said that you called in Liane’s interests,” he observed, presently, glancing at her with earnestness. “How?”
“What are her interests are yours; are they not?” she asked.
“Certainly.”