"_Tres bien_!" she said, as she stuffed the money into some queer corner in her brief skirt. "You are a gentilhomme, not like ze others. _Mais oui_." Then she rose, signalled to me with her eyes, and I followed her out of the room. CHAPTER NINETEEN. MORE REVELATIONS. Eagerly I strode out after her. We went a short distance along the road to the left, then turned again to the left and halted before a large white house. Up two flights of stairs she led me, along a short corridor, and through two rooms. She opened the door at the further end of the second room, and then motioned to me to enter. Seated at a table, playing cards, were Paulton, Violet de Coudron, Vera Thorold and the Baronne. Violet and Vera were in evening gowns--Vera in turquoise blue. The sight of the Baronne sitting there, alive and uninjured, so astounded me that I remained speechless. Paulton sprang fiercely to his feet. "Who brought you up here?" he exclaimed furiously. "Who?" The door had remained open. A ripple of laughter behind me made me cast a hurried glance that way, and I saw Judith convulsed with amusement. She recovered her composure in a few moments, and came in. "I have carried out my threat," she said in French quickly, addressing Paulton. "You brought it entirely upon yourself by your niggardliness. Mr. Ashton is generous--and a gentilhomme." Paulton clenched his fist. "Yes," the French girl went on, looking at him fearlessly, "you are quite right to restrain yourself. It would be a bad night's work if a tragedy were to happen _here_. At the chateau it was different. You had it your own way there--up to a point." The man became blasphemous, and I saw Vera wince. Her eyes were set upon mine, in mute appeal. The truth flashed in upon me. Paulton ran this private gaming establishment. The Baronne presumably was his partner. Judith was an accomplice. But the two girls? What part did they play? It was horrible finding Vera here, yet my faith in her never wavered. I knew she must be there against her will, that eventually she would explain all. And seeing what I had seen of Violet, I felt equally sure that circumstances which she too could not prevent were responsible for her presence. I suppose most men who self-complacently term themselves "men of the world," would have laughed outright at what they would have called my "blind belief in innocence," had the circumstances been related to them. For here were two young girls mixing with the lost souls of Monte Carlo, and apparently enjoying themselves. On the face of it, my confidence seemed quixotic, I admit, but there are times when I trust my instinct rather than even circumstantial evidence. And up to now my instinct has generally proved correct.