"Our hostess has gone to rob a bank," the gentlemanly youth suggested.
"Or to pawn her jewels," Lady Longmere laughed. "Isidore, why didn't you offer to lend her money on her tiara?"
"Because it is probably paste," the banker said, coolly. "Hein, I have seen enough of society women to know something of the value of their gems."
The spiteful little ripple of laughter was hushed as Leona Lalage returned. There was a flush on her face and a glitter in her eyes that Lawrence did not fail to notice. A little sheaf of banknotes fluttered in her hands.
"Give me gold for these," she cried. "Gold, red gold, two hundred sovereigns. Now, we will see whether fortune is still going to spite me."
For an hour they played on steadily with varying fortune. The clocks were striking two as three of the party dropped out, having lost everything. A great pile of gold stood before Leona Lalage, a large pile of notes opposite Lady Longmere. There were only five in the game now, and the banker was losing in a manner that caused the beads to stand out on his bald head. He shovelled out the last of his notes and his remaining gold and shook his head.
"I have gone to my limit," he said. "Gordon, give me a brandy and soda. Would you like to take my place, Lady Longmere?"
The American beauty shook her head and smiled.
"Not I!" she said. "I've got all my season's losings back, and I've done with this kind of thing, right here. I'm very fond of Longmere in my funny way, and I'm not going to deceive him any more. But I shall be afraid to go home with all these notes on me."
"I'll take them off your hands and give you a cheque," said Isidore. "I shall want a lot of notes in the morning."