“He’s afraid of that himself now.”
“Is he? I expect he’s caught it from her—doctors say you can, and he was always with her. But the queerest part of it all was the end.”
“Yes?” said Dolly, softly. Meryon had forgotten her, and she thought it safer to let him forget, lest he should shy again. The gambler went on, simply:
“He came in to me one night looking rather wild and asked me to play. I didn’t want to; I didn’t want to clean him out with his wife sick, and I knew my next streak of luck was about due. And once I begin I can’t leave off—the cards won’t let you go till they’ve had their sport out. But he would have it. Écarté we chose; I could tell every card in every game we played, and that was fifty-three—but that wouldn’t interest you. Anyway, I’ve seen queer things in the cards, but never anything so queer as that night’s play. I dare say you’ve heard that gamblers say spades mean death. Well, the king of spades kept on haunting us, and every time the black suit showed I swept the board. He kept on doubling the stakes, and I—I lost my head, as I always do, so when we came to the end of the spell and counted up I found I’d won sixteen thousand of him; only fancy! He swore that Marguerite—his wife, you know—was provided for, but I didn’t believe him, for he was just as if he were fey. So then he asked me to come in and see her and convince myself, and I said I would, then and there, though it was three in the morning. I was pretty queer, for the cards had got into my head, and I was counting the steps and multiplying them by the stones on the pavement, and I was mad with myself besides, and I thought I might get her to take it back, or some of it. Well, he took me in and up; I didn’t know where he was going till he threw open a door, and there we were in her room, and there was she laid out on the bed, dead. Candles at the four corners, and flowers all about—I never shall forget it.” He shuddered and stopped.
“And Mr. de Saumarez?”
“Oh, he was like a lunatic—talking to her—He’d put by money for the funeral; that’s what he meant by saying she was provided for. He hadn’t ten shillings himself. I tried to get him to take some, but he went off after the funeral, and I didn’t see him again. I never have, till now. I swore I’d never touch a card again, after that.”
“And did you keep your vow?” Dolly asked, not because she had much curiosity upon the subject; one is not greatly interested in the feelings of a phonograph.
“Yes, till a girl I knew asked me to play—I couldn’t refuse her.”
“Did she know of your promise?”
“Yes, but she wanted me to play specially. You see, I had rather a name; my luck’s so queer. She was writing a book about it; besides, she didn’t quite understand.”