“What’s this?” he croaked.
“A run of twenty-eight on the black,” said the Englishman. “It is phenomenal! You wanted me to go on, didn’t you? I asked you whether I should play your thousand francs. The bank bust four times—didn’t you hear them ring for more money?”
Timothy nodded. He had no words.
“Well, your six went to twelve and I left the maximum run,” the Englishman said. “I asked you if that was right and you nodded.”
“Yes, I nodded,” said Timothy mechanically.
“You’ve won twenty-seven and a half maximums.”
Timothy looked at the money in his hand, looked up at the ceiling and gulped something down.
“Thank you,” he gasped. “I am obliged to you.”
It was inadequate, but it was all that he could say.
“Not at all,” said the Englishman. “I won a lot of money myself.”