"Haven't you finished yet, Tony?" she asked at last "I'm ready to go home when you are." "Go home? When I'm winning?" he expostulated. "Rather not!" Then, catching sight of her face, "Hello! You look tired. Are you, Ann?" She nodded. "Yes, I think I am a little." Tony held a five-franc note in his hand, ready for staking. Without the least sign of disappointment he stuffed it back into his pocket. "Then we'll go home," he said. And somewhat to the amazement of the people nearest him, who had been watching his phenomenal run of luck, he made a way for Ann through the crowd and followed her out of the room. "That was nice of you, Tony," she said gratefully, as they started to walk home through the deserted streets. He threw her a quick, enigmatic smile. "I've an obliging disposition. Haven't you found that out yet?" Ann laughed. "It's becoming quite noticeable," she retorted. "Tony, you nearly broke the bank to-night, I should think." "Broke the bank! At five francs a time!" He kicked a pebble viciously into the roadway. "It was confounded bad luck to get a run like that with such a rotten limit. With an equal run at Monte I'd have made a fortune. Oh, damn!" They walked on in silence for a while. There was no moon. The lake lay dark and mysterious, pricked here and there with the swaying orange light of a fishing-boat. High up, like a ring of planets brooding above the town, the great arc of the Caux Palace lights blazed through the starlit dusk. Tony reverted to the evening's play. "You didn't do badly, either," he said, challengingly. "You weren't bored to-night, were you?" An odd little smile crossed her face. "No, I wasn't bored," she answered quietly. CHAPTER VII A QUESTION OF ILLUSIONS An air of suppressed excitement prevailed over Montricheux. It was the day when the pretty lakeside town celebrated the Fête des Narcisses, and from the smallest street urchin, grabbing a bunch of narcissi in his grubby little hand and trying to induce the good-natured foreigner to purchase his wares, to the usually stolid _hôteliers_, vying with each other as to which of their caravanserais should blaze out into the most arresting scheme of decoration on the great occasion, the whole population was aquiver with an almost child-like sense of anticipation and delight. There was to be a procession of decorated cars and carriages, a battle of flowers, and attractions innumerable during the course of the day, followed in the evening by a Venetian fête on the waters of the bay. Tony looked in at Villa Mon Rêve shortly after breakfast. "Taking any part in the proceedings?" he inquired conversationally. Ann shook her head. "We've had the car decorated in honour of the occasion," she replied. "But we're not competing for any prize. I expect we shall just drive about the town."