"Of the high-toned gilt-edged sort, with red scalps?"
Askew comprehended in a second. "Lady Jim," he stammered; "yes, I heard that she was at San Remo. What's she doing here?"
"Visitin' the sick an' the poor," said Mamie, shrewdly. "It's what folks come to Monte for. Guess, she best drop in on you--a sicker man I never saw, an' you'll be poor enough by th' time we're through with this old system of yours. I know a bank where th' wild time goes. You may look all through Bacon without findin' that remark--it's my own. Let's get."
Thus, with barbaric japes, did the child of nature lead her companion into the gilded halls of iniquity, and the two jostled the well-dressed crowd which circulated round the tables. The silence was that of an arctic night, save for the droning voices of the croupiers, and at times a hurried whisper of joy or dismay.
"Goin' in for rouge et noir with Lady Jim?" asked Miss Mulrady, alluding to the hair of Askew and his friend; "or perhaps she's sportin' on trente et quarante, to suit her years."
"She's under thirty," growled Askew, crossly.
"An' you're under the weather, considerable," retorted the American, sharply. "Get up steam an' fizzle a bit, can't you?"
"Shall I war-whoop, or dance a horn-pipe?"
"Neither I prefer originality."
"Try the system, then;" and Askew pushed his way through the Mammon-worshippers to where the roulette ball wheeled its fatal round.