He found a vacant chair a few places lower down, and commenced playing in maximums. From the moment of his arrival he began to win, and simultaneously Violet began to lose. Her good-fortune deserted her absolutely, and for the first time she showed signs of losing her self-control. She gave vent to little exclamations of disgust as stake after stake was swept away. Her eyes were much too bright, there was a spot of colour in her cheeks. She spoke angrily to a croupier who delayed handing her some change. Draconmeyer, although he knew perfectly well what was happening, never seemed to glance in her direction. He played with absolute recklessness for half-an-hour. When at last he rose from his seat and joined her, his hands were full of notes. He smiled ever so faintly as he saw the covetous gleam in her eyes.
"I'm nearly broken," she gasped. "Leave off playing, please, for a little time. You've changed my luck."
He obeyed, standing behind her chair. Three more coups she played and lost. Then she thrust her hand into her bag and drew it out, empty. She was suddenly pale.
"I have lost my last louis," she declared. "I don't understand it. It seemed as though I must win here."
"So you will in time," he assured her confidently. "How much will you have—ten mille or twenty?"
She shrank back, but the sight of the notes in his hand fascinated her. She glanced up at him. His pallor was unchanged, there was no sign of exultation in his face. Only his eyes seemed a little brighter than usual beneath his gold-rimmed spectacles.
"No, give me ten," she said.
She took them from his hand and changed them quickly into plaques. Her first coup was partially successful. He leaned closer over her.
"Remember," he pointed out, "that you only need to win once in a dozen times and you do well. Don't be in such a hurry."
"Of course," she murmured. "Of course! One forgets that. It is all a matter of capital."