“This is yours, Sir,” said she of the blonde ringlets,’ handing him a hundred franc-piece that had rolled amongst her own.
“Was it not to suggest a partnership that it went there?” said he, smiling courteously.
“Who knows?” said she, half carelessly, half invitingly.
“Let us see what our united fortunes will do. This old man is dozing and does not care for the game. Would you favour me with your place, Sir, and take your rest with so much more comfort, on one of those luxurious sofas yonder?”
“No!” said the old man, sternly. “I have as much right to be here as you.”
“The legal right I am not going to dispute. It is simply a matter of expediency.”
“Do you mean to stake all that gold, Sir?” interrupted the croupier, addressing Calvert, who, during this brief discussion, had suffered his money to remain till it had been doubled twice over.
“Ay, let it stay there,” said he, carelessly.
“What have you done that makes you so lucky?” whispered the blonde ringlets. “See, you have broken the bank!”
“What have I done, do you mean in the way of wickedness?” said he, laughing as the croupiers gathered in a knot to count over the sum to be paid to him. “Nearly everything. I give you leave to question me—so far as your knowledge of the Decalogue goes—what have I not done?” And so they sauntered down the room side by side and sat down on a sofa, chatting and laughing pleasantly together, till the croupier came loaded with gold and notes to pay all Calvert’s winnings.