Cecil smiled.
His smiling friend was glum, for he had lost two crowns on the red. He threw down another couple of crowns again upon the red.
"Back the winning colour," said Frank, staking twenty pounds upon the black.
Cecil made a pile of fifty sovereigns, and placed it also on the black.
He won again.
"Now, Frank, I'm ready to go."
"That's right."
"Waiter, some champagne!"
"And a cigar, waiter!"
Cecil having called for the champagne, placed the gold in his purse, and seemed to have realized his dream: glimpses even of the country house sparkled on the froth of the wine!