The subscribers were numerous, and consequently, as often happens, the society was of a mixed character. Out of three hundred persons present, scarcely a dozen knew each other. But as there were plenty of police, people were not afraid to join in the dance.
Wherever there is a ball, there is generally a room for play. In this instance, close to the ballroom, was a saloon filled with tables for play, and gambling going on.
I was one of the players.
I am not a gambler, for I play with great caution and moderation. I never risk more than a small piece of silver at cards, and only play, until the sum I intend to venture is lost; after which I retire, if not with pleasure, at least with philosophic resignation.
On this evening, Dame Fortune was against me, and in spite of my best strategetical calculations, the inconstant goddess had quickly put me hors de combat. The last of the ten francs I had staked had vanished.
The lightness of my purse left me in a capital physical condition to dance; but, though I had never been a great dancer, I feared, in spite of my philosophy, that my partners might perceive that I was out of sorts. I am obliged to confess, that at that period of my life, ten francs was a large sum for me to lose.
But at twenty-five years of age one is seldom a millionnaire.
Therefore, instead of joining in the dance, I directed my steps to another table where they were playing, with a malicious intention of consoling myself, by looking on at the misfortunes of others. One does feel so spiteful when one is vexed.
The game was very animated, gold was glittering on the table, and all eyes, riveted on the precious metal, seemed eager with anticipated pleasure.
They were playing écarté.