“All gone!” cried Roland.
“Every crown in the world!”
“Be it so; there is an end of gambling, at least!”
“You bear your losses nobly, senhor!” said Enrique, sneeringly; “and, before a fitting audience, might claim the merit of an accomplished gamester. I am, however, most unworthy to witness such fine philosophy. I recognize in beggary nothing but disgrace!”
“Bear it, then, and the whole load, too!” said Roland, sneeringly. “To your solicitations only I yielded in taking my place at that accursed table. I had neither a passion for play, nor the lust for money-getting; you thought to teach me both, and, peradventure, you have made me despise them more than ever.”
“What a moralist!” cried Enrique, laughing insolently, “who discovers that he has cared neither for his mistress nor his money till he has lost both.”
“What do you mean?” said Roland, trembling with passion.
“I never speak in riddles,” was the cool reply.
“This, then, is meant as insult,” said Roland, approaching closer, and speaking in a still lower voice; “or is it merely the passion of a disappointed gambler?”
“And if it were, amigo mio,” retorted the other, “what more fitting stake to set against the anger of a rejected lover?”