"Right," said Simon.
Pugeot gave an address to the driver and off they went. They stopped in a narrow street and Pugeot led the way into a house.
In the hall of this house he had an interview with a pale-faced individual in black, an evil, weary-looking person who handed Simon a visitors' book to sign. They then went into a bar, where Simon imbibed a cocktail, and from the bar they went upstairs.
Pugeot opened a door and disclosed Monte Carlo.
A Monte Carlo shrunk to one room and one table. This was the Wilderness Club, and around the table were grouped men of all ages and sizes, some of them of the highest social standing.
The stakes were high.
Just as a child gobbles a stolen apple, so these gentlemen seemed to be trying to make as much out of their furtive business as they could and get away, winners or losers, as soon as possible lest worse befel them. Added to the uneasiness of the gambler was the uneasiness of the law-breaker, the two uneasinesses, combined making a mental cocktail that, to a large number of the frequenters, had a charm far above anything to be obtained in a legitimate gambling-shop on the Continent.
This place supplied Oppenshaw with some of his male patients.
Pugeot played and lost, and then Simon plunged.
They were there an hour, and in that hour Simon won seven hundred pounds!