He said: "Of course, if you have enough—"
"I—enough?" flared the old aristocrat.
Pierre le Rouge turned fairly upon Hurley.
"In the name of God," he said calmly, and God on his lips was as gentle as music, "make an end of your game. You're playing for money, but I think this man is playing for his eternal soul."
The solemn, bookish phraseology came smoothly from his tongue. He knew no other. It drew a murmur of amusement from the room and a snarl from Hurley.
"Put on skirts, kid, and join the Salvation Army, but don't get yourself messed all up in here. This is my party, and I'm damned particular who I invite! Now, run along!"
The head of Pierre tilted back, and he burst into laughter which troubled even Hurley.
The gambler blurted: "What's happening to you, kid?"
"I've been making a lot of good resolutions, Mr. Hurley, about keeping out of trouble; but here I am in it up to the neck."
"No trouble as long as you keep your hand out of another man's game, kid."