Malone felt as if he had swallowed his stomach. Boyd and Lady Barbara, standing nearby, had absolutely no expressions on their faces. Malone needed no telepath to tell him what they were thinking.
They were exactly the same as he was. They were incapable of thought.
But Her Majesty never batted an eyelash. "Come, Sir Kenneth," she said. "Let's go on to the poker tables."
She swept out. Her entourage followed her, shambling a little, and blank-eyed. Malone was still thinking about the five thousand dollars. Oh, well, Burris had said to give the lady anything she wanted. But my God! he thought. Did she have to play for royal stakes?
"I am, after all, a Queen," she whispered back to him.
Malone thought about the National Debt. He wondered if a million more or less would make any real difference. There would be questions asked in committees about it. He tried to imagine himself explaining the evening to a group of Congressmen. "Well, you see, gentlemen, there was this roulette wheel—"
He gave it up.
Then he wondered how much hotter the water was going to get, and he stopped thinking altogether in self-defense.
In the next room, there were scattered tables. At one, a poker game was in full swing. Only five were playing; one, by his white-tie-and- tails uniform, was easily recognizable as a house dealer. The other four were all men, one of them in full cowboy regalia. The Tudors descended upon them with great suddenness, and the house dealer looked up and almost lost his cigarette.
"We haven't any money, Your Majesty," Malone whispered.