was like myself, fair with blue eyes and a fair complexion.’
‘Her age?’
‘About thirty, I should think.’
French noted the particulars.
‘Well, you made friends with this Miss Lestrange. Yes?’
‘The thing that struck me most about her was that she seemed so well off. She was always well dressed, had a big fur coat and expensive gloves and shoes. And once when I lunched with her we went to Fuller’s and had a real slap-up lunch that must have cost her as much as I could spend in lunches in a week. And she didn’t seem the type that would be getting it from men.
‘I said that I couldn’t return such hospitality as that and she laughed and asked me what I was getting at the Milan. Then she said it was more than she got, but that there were ways of adding to one’s salary. When I asked her how, she smiled at first, but afterwards she told me.’
French’s quiet, sympathetic manner had evidently had it’s effect. Miss Darke had lost a good deal of her terror and her story was coming much more spontaneously. French encouraged her with the obvious question.
‘She said she had got let in on a good thing through a friend. It was a scheme for gambling on the tables at Monte Carlo.’
‘At Monte Carlo?’
‘Yes. It was run by a syndicate. They had a man there who did the actual play. They sent him out the money and he sent back the winnings. You could either choose your number or colour or you could leave it to him to do the best he could for you. If you won you got your winnings less five per cent for expenses; if you lost of course you lost everything. But the man did very well as a rule. He worked on a system and in the long run you made money.’
In spite of himself French became more interested. The story, he felt, was old—as old as humanity. But the setting was new. This Monte Carlo idea was ingenious, though it could only take in the ignorant. Evidently it was for this class that the syndicate catered.
‘And that was how Miss Lestrange had made her money?’
‘Yes.’ Apparently Miss Darke had not questioned the fact. ‘She said that as a rule she made a couple of pounds a week out of it. I said she was lucky and that I wished that I had an obliging friend who would let me into something of the kind. She didn’t answer for a while and then she said that she didn’t see why I shouldn’t get in if I wanted to. If I liked she would speak to her friend about it.
‘I wasn’t very keen at first, for at one time or another I had seen a deal of trouble coming through gambling. But I thought a little fling wouldn’t do me any harm, so I thanked her and asked her to go ahead. If she won, why shouldn’t I?’
‘Why indeed? And she did arrange it?’
‘Yes. I didn’t see her for three or four days, then I met her in the train. She said she had fixed up the thing for me and if I would come in early next morning she would introduce me to the man who took the stakes. Our jobs started about one o’clock, you will understand, Mr French, so we had plenty of time earlier.’
‘Of course. I suppose you both worked on till the places closed in the evening.’
‘That’s right. We were done about eleven or a little later. Well, next morning I met her at eleven and we saw the bookmaker, Mr Westinghouse. Gwen had told me that his office was rather far away and that he would meet us in the Embankment Gardens at Charing Cross. And so he did.’
‘Now before you go on you might describe Mr Westinghouse.’
‘I can tell you just what he was like,’ the girl returned. ‘You know those big American businessmen that you see on the films? Clean shaven and square chins and very determined and all that? Well, he was like that.’
‘I know exactly. Right, Miss Darke. You met Mr Westinghouse?’
‘Yes. Gwen introduced me and he asked me my name and a lot of questions about myself and he wrote down the answers in a notebook. Then he said he would agree to act for me, but that I was to promise not to mention the affair, as they wanted to keep it in the hands of a few. I promised and he took my stake. It was only five shillings, but he took as much trouble over it as if it had been pounds. He wanted to know if I would like to choose my number, but I said I would leave it to the man on the ground.’
‘And what was the result?’
‘Mr Westinghouse said that he couldn’t undertake to let me know before the end of a week, on account of the time it took to write out and back again, and also because the man did not always play, but only when he felt he was going to win. He had a sort of sense for it, Mr Westinghouse said. So I met him a week later. He said I had done well enough for a start. I had won three times my stake. He gave me nineteen shillings, the fifteen shillings win and my five shillings back, less five per cent. I was delighted and I put ten shillings on and kept the nine. That time I doubled my ten and got another nineteen shillings. The next time I lost, but the next I had a real bit of luck.’
‘Yes?’ French queried with as great a show of interest as he could simulate. The tale was going according to plan. He could almost have told it to Miss Darke.
‘That fourth time,’ the girl went on, ‘Mr Westinghouse seemed much excited. He said I had done something out of the common and that it was only the second case which had occurred since they started. I had won maximum, that meant thirty-five times my bet. I had put on ten shillings and he handed me sixteen pounds twelve and sixpence!’
‘A lot of money,’ said French gravely.
‘Wasn’t it? Well, you may imagine, Mr French, that after that I went ahead with the thing. But I never had another bit of luck like that, though on the whole I did fairly well, at least until lately.’
That, of course, was the next step. She had still to tell of her loss and the penalty. But that, French felt sure, was coming.
‘About a month ago,’ the girl went on, ‘Gwen told me she was leaving town. She had got a better job in the Waldorf Theatre in Birmingham. But I carried on the gambling all the same. But somehow after she left my luck seemed to desert me. I began to lose until at last I had lost everything I had won and all my small savings as well.’
‘And what did Mr Westinghouse say to that?’
‘I told him what had happened and that I couldn’t go on betting. He seemed cut up about it and said that if he had foreseen that result he wouldn’t have taken me on. Then he said it was a real pity I couldn’t go on a little longer. The luck at the tables came in cycles and they had been passing through a specially bad cycle. Several other people had lost as well as me. He said the luck was due to turn and that if I could hold on I would be sure to win back all that I had lost and more. I said I couldn’t as I hadn’t the money and that was all there was to it. He said to let things stand for a week and then to come back to him and he would see what could be done.’
‘And you did?’
‘Yes. Mr Westinghouse told me he was glad to see me as the luck had turned. If I could manage a really good bet he was certain that I should win handsomely. I said I hadn’t the money. Then he hummed and hawed and at last said that he couldn’t see me stuck; that he felt responsible for me and that he would help me out. If I would undertake to let him have half the profits,
