“Heaven knows!” said Timothy. “Maybe it is to call the other worshippers.”
Again the young Englishman looked round and said something.
“What did he say?” asked Timothy.
“He said seventeen,” said the girl. “Was that the number you backed?”
Timothy smiled.
“There are no numbers on that table except No. 1—and No. 1 is the fat man with the rake—he gets it coming and going. Mary, I’m going to ask you one question: If I make good will you marry me?”
She was silent and again the voice of the croupier came:
“Rouge perd—couleur gagne.”
“What does ‘rouge perd’ mean?” she asked. “He has said that ever so many times.”
“It means ‘black wins,’ ” said Timothy.