He certainly did talk like a father—not to say like a saint—to the members of the club.
The hot feverish players smiled grimly at his eloquence.
He was the only talkative man in the room.
There were many there who were not quite so cheery. They were evidently bent on business, not gossip or badinage, and to judge from their apparel their business did not please them much.
“Only for amusement,” pleaded the little sallow-faced man, “that’s all—only amusement. No stake larger than half-a-crown. We none of us want to be ruined. We play only for amusement. This is a social club. We are all brothers here. We all know that. Only for amusement, gentlemen.”
He kept repeating this sentence, even as the raven in “Barnaby Rudge” was wont to repeat “Never say die.”
Indeed, to say the truth, the little croupier reminded one very much of a raven.
“Would you like to have one turn, and try your luck?” inquired Kempshead of Peace.
“I don’t know anything of the game; but, being here, I must do as others do, I suppose,” answered our hero.
“As I said before, gentlemen, we play only for amusement,” again remarked the croupier. “It’s all fair and aboveboard at this establishment.”