Deliberately Emilie stifled a yawn.

‘Concerts are usually somewhat fatiguing,’ she said, ‘as you will doubtless find out in time. You have a lot to learn, dear child.’

Her tone was crushing, and a little of the ecstasy died from Mistral’s face.

The audience were leaving their seats. Emilie rose, but deliberately took a long time to arrange her lace scarf around her shoulders so that she and Mistral were almost the last to leave the Concert Hall.

‘I think we will look in at the gaming rooms,’ she said as they came out into the wide corridor.

‘Oh, Aunt Emilie, I did hope you would suggest it. For a moment I was terribly afraid that we were going back to the Hotel.’

‘We will not stay long,’ Emilie said crushingly.

She led the way to where an attendant in uniform was admitting people through a glass door.

Almost on tiptoe with excitement Mistral followed her and then at last they were in the gambling rooms. She had a first impression of hundreds of lighted chandeliers, of massive pillars with capitals of gold, of paintings which upon a golden background depicted enormous groups of Goddesses and Cupids, of mosaics and carvings, statues and palms. It was all so overwhelming that she was dazzled and bewildered.

There was little noise – only the low murmur of voices, the clink of gold and silver, the click clack of a small hall whizzing round a huge wheel of polished brass. There were seven gaming tables, Mistral saw, covered in green cloth. Those for roulette were quite flat, their edges protected with leather. At these the Croupiers with their long rakes spoke in level, unemotional tones,

‘Messieurs et Mesdames, faites vos jeux’

‘Rien ne va plus!’

Each table had attracted a little crowd, the majority of the players watching the play with immobile faces so that it was difficult to tell whether they were winning or losing, or whether indeed they were playing at all.

Emilie passed by several tables and came at last to one at the far end of the room. She watched the play for some minutes and then suddenly a woman who had been seated rose and, gathering up what remained of a pile of gold louis, left the table. The Croupier glanced at Emilie who was standing just behind the empty chair. For a moment she hesitated, but almost as if she were hypnotised against her will she sat down at the table.

She passed a bank note, for what seemed to Mistral a large sum, towards the Croupier and changed it for gold.

With fascinated eyes Mistral watched her Aunt place several Louis on impair. Emilie lost her first stake and the second, the third time she won. Mistral wanted to give a little cry of joy, but she was too frightened of being snubbed and could only stand silent with wide, excited eyes behind her aunt’s chair.