Some years ago—ah! now I am looking back; Ulrica is not at fault this time. No, I must not think. I have promised myself not to think during my work upon this narrative, but to try to forget all past unhappiness. To try! Ah! I would that I could calm my soul—steep it in a draught of such thoughtlessness that oblivion would come! But I fear that can never, never be!

It is terrible to think how a woman can suffer, and yet live. What a blessing it is that the world cannot read a woman's heart! Men may look upon our faces, but they cannot read the truth. Even though our hearts may be breaking, we may wear a smile; we can conceal our sorrows so cleverly that none can suspect, for smiles make a part of our physical being; we can hide our grief so completely that none can know the burden upon us. Endurance, resistance, patience, suffering, all these belong to woman's heritage. Even in the few years I have lived, I have had my share of them all.

I stood bewildered, watching the revolving red and black roulette-wheel, and the eager crowd of faces around it.

"Vingt! Rouge, pair et passe!" the croupier cried, and a couple of louis which Ulrica had placed on the last dozen were swept away with the silver, notes and gold, to swell the bank.

I thought of my secret grief. I thought of Ernest Cameron, and pursed my lips. The old Tuscan proverb which the nuns in Firenze had taught me so long ago was very true: "Amore non é senza amaro."

The millionaire's son at my elbow was explaining to me how the game was played, but I was paying no attention. I only remembered the man I had once loved—the man whose slave I was—the man whom I had forgiven, even though he had left me so cruelly. Only three things could make life to me worth living—the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the touch of his lips.

But such fine fortune could never be. We were parted for ever—for ever!

"Now, play this time!" I heard Reggie exclaim.

"Where?" I inquired mechanically, his voice awakening me to a sense of my surroundings.

"On the line, there—between the numbers 9 and 12."