Lacville does not do them much harm, for the place is so near Paris that foreigners, if they go there at all, generally go out for the day.

Only the most confirmed gambler cares actually to _live_ at Lacville." He looked significantly at Sylvia, and she felt a wave of hot colour break over her face.
"Yes, I know what you must be thinking, and it is, indeed, the shameful truth! I, Madame, have the misfortune to be that most miserable and most God-forsaken of living beings, a confirmed gambler." The Count spoke in a tone of stifled pain, almost anger, and Sylvia gazed up at his stern, sad face with pity and concern filling her kind heart.
"I will tell you my story in a few words," he went on, and then he sat down by her, and began tracing with his stick imaginary patterns on the stone floor.
"I was destined for what I still regard as the most agreeable career in the world--that of diplomacy.

You see how I speak English?
Well, Madame, I speak German and Spanish equally well.

And then, most unhappily for me, my beloved mother died, and I inherited from her a few thousand pounds.
I felt very miserable, and I happened to be at the moment idle.

A friend persuaded me to go to Monte Carlo.