Thus goes the money. It comes from the pockets of the dupes—poor moths who burn their wings at Spa!
The Wells are a mere pretext for gaming, intriguing, and fortune-hunting. There are a few honest people who go for amusement, and a few for rest and relaxation after the toils of business.
Living is cheap enough at Spa. The table d’hote is excellent, and only costs a small French crown, and one can get good lodging for the like sum.
I came home at noon having won a score of louis. I went into the shop, intending to go to my room, but I was stopped short by seeing a handsome brunette, of nineteen or twenty, with great black eyes, voluptuous lips, and shining teeth, measuring out ribbon on the counter. This, then, was the niece, whom I had imagined as so ugly. I concealed my surprise and sat down in the shop to gaze at her and endeavour to make her acquaintance. But she hardly seemed to see me, and only acknowledged my presence by a slight inclination of the head. Her aunt came down to say that dinner was ready, and I went upstairs and found the table laid for four. The servant brought in the soup, and then asked me very plainly to give her some money if I wanted any wine, as her master and mistress only drank beer. I was delighted with her freedom, and gave her money to buy two bottles of Burgundy.
The master came up and shewed me a gold repeater with a chain also of gold by a well-known modern maker. He wanted to know how much it was worth.
“Forty louis at the least.”
“A gentleman wants me to give him twenty louis for it, on the condition that I return it to-morrow if he brings me twenty-two.”
“Then I advise you to accept his offer.”
“I haven’t got the money.”
“I will lend it you with pleasure.”