Clodagh waited, holding her breath. The ball slackened speed—hesitated over the gaily painted board—and finally dropped into its place. There was a general laugh of excitement; the little crowd pressed closer to the table, and she saw her coin swept into Luard's hands.
The incident was eventful. Quite suddenly the colour leaped into her face and her eyes blazed. In total unconsciousness of self, she stepped forward to the table.
Deerehurst, closely watchful of her, moved to her side.
"Shall I stake again?" he asked in a whisper.
But she did not turn her head.
"No!—no!" she cried. "I'll stake for myself."
Her voice sounded distant and absorbed. It seemed in that brief moment that she had forgotten her companion and herself.
Thrice she staked, and thrice lost; but the losses whetted her desires. She played boldly, with a certain reckless grace born of complete unconsciousness. At last fortune favoured her, and she won. Deerehurst, still standing close beside her, saw the expression of her face, saw the careless—the almost inconsequent—air with which she accepted her spoils; and, noting both, he touched her arm.
"You are a true gambler!" he said very softly. "You care nothing for gain or loss. You play for the play's sake!"
And Clodagh, with her mind absorbed and her eyes on the roulette-board, gave a quick, high-pitched, unthinking laugh.