"Have you had any luck at the tables?" Crowther asked.
"None," said Piers. "At least I won, eventually, but Fate, in the form of a powdered and bedizened female snatched the proceeds before I got the chance. A bad omen, what?"
"I hope not," said Crowther.
There was a touch of savagery in Piers' laugh. "It won't happen again, anyhow," he said.
They entered the Casino with its brilliant rooms and pushing crowds. The place was thronged. As they entered, a woman with a face of evil beauty, pressed close to Piers and spoke a word or two in French. But he looked at her and through her with royal disdain, and so passed her by.
They made their way to the table at which Piers had tried his luck the previous night, waited for and finally secured a place.
"You take it!" said Crowther. "I believe in your luck."
Piers laughed. He staked five francs on the figure five and lost, doubled his stakes and lost again, trebled them and lost again.
"This is getting serious," said Crowther.
But still Piers laughed. "Damn it!" he said. "I will win to-night!"