"Justice, Cis, damme, justice! If you lost money by my martingale, it must be because you didn't play it, for I'll stake my honour—or anything equally valueless upon it, that my plan is infallible."
"Perhaps so; if one could play it. But the fact is, one had need be a machine to play it."
"Of course—of course. That's why you should have let me play: I'm cast-iron. You could not resist the temptation of risking now and then, and in that risk you lost."
"Don't tell me, Frank. No man can sit playing all night, and winning paltry stakes, when every time he wins he reproaches himself for not having staked higher."
"So you lost?"
"I'm cleaned out. I don't believe there is eight pounds in my purse."
"Humph! I came to borrow."
"I'll accept a bill, if you will get it discounted, and we'll share."
"Bravo!"
"Have you a stamp about you?"