Sans-Cravate lost the first game; and Monsieur Laboussole cried, with his most affable air:
"You see, my boys, luck may turn any time; that's what I rely on."
"My revenge!" cried Sans-Cravate.
"Always, my boy! always at your service; a well-bred card player never refuses a revenge, under penalty of being called a carotteur; and I've never been called that. But let's have some wine first and drink a bumper! Cards make me horribly thirsty."
Jean Ficelle undertook to fill the glasses. Sans-Cravate lost the second game, and demanded another, which he also lost; but Laboussole did not cease to exclaim:
"You play much better than I do; I can't imagine how I succeed in beating you!"
Sans-Cravate continued to demand his revenge, which Laboussole was always eager to accord; while Jean Ficelle took care that the glasses should be filled as soon as they were empty. The wine and the game soon bewildered Sans-Cravate to the point that he hardly knew what he was doing; his adversary, on the other hand, retained his sang-froid, and combined with it all his social talents. It was not long before Sans-Cravate found that he had lost all the money he had with him; he had not enough left to pay for the wine they had drunk, a part of which was chargeable to him.
"I'll pay for you, and you may owe it to me," said Jean Ficelle. "I am not capable of leaving a friend in a hole."
Sans-Cravate was astounded to find himself without a sou, for he had thirty francs in the morning. He felt in all his pockets, and cried:
"How's this? I have lost all my money! I want to keep on playing and make myself good! I'll play on credit."