Suddenly there was a loud cry from the inner room, in which the game was progressing.
"By heaven. I win! Give it me. It is all mine. All—all," shouted a man.
Mrs. Holt uttered a scream.
"'Tis he!" she cried. "Wretch, you have deceived me. Stand on one side. I heard my husband's voice, and I will see him."
She pushed past the negro, who would fain have stopped her had he been able to do so, but her movements were too quick for him to intercept her.
"This is becoming decidedly interesting," observed Mr. Smith; "Elise has come after Clarence. By Jove!" he added, as she raised her vail, "she justifies his description of her. A prettier creature I never saw!"
The luck had changed, and Clarence had been fortunate enough to win largely, as a pile of gold by his side fully testified.
The young wife tapped him on the shoulder.
"Clarence," she whispered.
"You here?" he cried, while a flush of annoyance crossed his face.