"But there is one chink in the chain armour of civilized communities.Society is conducted on the assumption that murder will not becommitted."—
The Spectator.
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
A small, shiny, pink card lay on the round table in Sylvia Bailey'ssitting-room at the Hôtel de l'Horloge in Paris.
She had become quite accustomed to finding one or more cards—cards fromdressmakers, cards from corset-makers, cards from hairdressers—lying onher sitting-room table, but there had never been a card quite like thiscard.
Although it was pink, it looked more like a visiting-card than atradesman's advertisement, and she took it up with some curiosity. It wasinscribed "Madame Cagliostra," and underneath the name were written thewords "Diseuse de la Bonne Aventure," and then, in a corner, in verysmall black letters, the address, "5, Rue Jolie, Montmartre."
A fortune-teller's card? What an extraordinary thing!
Like many pretty, prosperous, idle women, Sylvia was rathersuperstitious. Not long before this, her first visit to Paris, a Londonacquaintance had taken her to see a noted palmist named "Pharaoh," inBond Street. She had paid her guinea willingly enough, but the result hadvaguely disappointed her, and she had had the feeling, all the time shewas with him, that the man was not really reading her hand.
True, "Pharaoh" had told her she was going abroad, and at that time shehad no intention of doing so. The palmist had also told her—and this wasreally rather curious—that she would meet, when abroad, a foreign womanwho would have a considerable influence on her life. Well, in this veryHôtel de l'Horloge Mrs. Bailey had come across a Polish lady, named AnnaWolsky, who was, like Sylvia herself, a young widow, and the two hadtaken a