"No, indeed! Fortune is like the sun; it shines for everybody!"
"There's a proverb that I never heard! I believe it to be absolutely false!"
However, the chevalier's adversary calmly took up the dice, shook them with the air of a man to whom it matters little whether he loses a rose crown, but who is amused by the impatience of his opponent.
"Sandis! have you nearly finished shaking your dicebox?" said Passedix; "you trifle too much."
The shopkeeper threw—fifteen! It was his turn to laugh, which he did with a good heart, in company with his friend, who cried:
"Pardieu! there's a throw that's worth all of yours, monsieur le cardinal's friend!"
But Passedix did not seem to hear these words; he was so thunderstruck when he counted his opponent's points, that he stood like one turned to stone, with his eyes fixed on the six, the five, and the four.
"Come, monsieur le chevalier, give me the rose crown you were so anxious to lose. Quickly, if you please! I ought to have gone long ago!"
"I, pay you!" cried Passedix, drawing himself up to his full height, and with the back of his hand giving a tilt over one ear to the sort of cap he wore; "pay you! No, indeed! for the throw was not fair; it doesn't count!"
"Doesn't count! that throw of mine! I suppose that you say that in jest, beau sire, but I don't like that sort of pleasantry, I warn you. Pay me quickly, and let us have done with it!"