Two pairs of eyes peered at the revolving wheel. They did not notice that the Dutchman, plunging at the last moment upon 'MANQUE,' had touched their counter with his cuff and moved it to '9.'
The ball lost its momentum, poppled across the ridges, and leaped to rest.
"Nueve."
Two faces fell. I wondered if a new frock had vanished into air….
With the edge of his rake a croupier was tapping their counter and looking round for the claimant.
For a second the Jew peered about him. Then he pointed to himself and stretched out his hand.
I called to the croupier in French.
"No. It belongs to Monsieur and Madame. I saw what happened. That gentleman moved it with his cuff."
"Merci, Monsieur."
With a sickly leer the pretender rallied the croupier, confidentially assured the dainty Englishwoman that he did not care, and, laughing a little too heartily, waved the thirty-five pounds towards their bewildered owners.