Basil was given notes to the value of £16,000.
The most notable thing about the Casino, with its enormous resources, is the absolute impassibility of its officials.
Again Basil wagered £8,000—this time upon black.
He won, and as his money was being paid to him a loud murmur rose from the crowd—a loud murmur, broken by a sharp and pulsing cry.
A tall and beautiful girl had risen from her feet and had fallen in a deep swoon into the arms of the bystanders behind her.
There was an immediate struggle. The electric tension of the moment was over. The well-dressed crowd surged and almost fought in a panic of snapped nerves and suddenly relaxed excitement.
People came surging from all sides. The other tables were deserted, and, far away through the great halls, those who were playing trente-et-quarante rose from their cards with listening ears.
In that supreme moment Basil Gregory did not lose his head. He gathered up his enormous winnings. The pockets of his coat bulged with wealth. And Ethel McMahon was being carried out into the Atrium, followed by her mother in a state of wild hysteria, before he rose from his seat.
He took six thousand-franc notes from one of his pockets. To each of the six croupiers he gave a note.
Then he sauntered quietly out into the huge hall.