Soon, however, the secret of his angry look was revealed, for Madame Wachner opened the leather bag hanging from her wrist and took out of it a hundred francs.
"Here, Fritz," she cried, gaily.

"You can now begin your play!" Sylvia Bailey felt very much amused.

So poor "Ami Fritz" was not allowed to gamble unless his wife were there to see that he did not go too far.
No wonder he had looked impatient and eager, as well as cross! He had been engaged--that was clear--in putting down the turns of the game, and in working out what were no doubt abstruse calculations connected with his system.
The Club was very full, and it was a little difficult at that hour of the late afternoon to get near enough to a table to play comfortably; but a stranger had kindly kept Anna Wolsky's place for her.
"I have been quite lucky," she whispered to Sylvia.

"I have made three hundred francs, and now I think I will rest a bit! Slip in here, dear, and I will stand behind you.

I do not advise you to risk more than twenty francs the first time; on the other hand, if you feel _en veine_, if the luck seems persistent--it sometimes is when one first plays with gold--then be bold, and do not hesitate!" Sylvia, feeling rather bewildered, slipped into her friend's place, and Anna kept close behind her.
With a hand that trembled a little, she put a twenty-franc piece down on the green table.