Malone hoped fervently that Her Majesty wouldn't mention just how many years. He didn't think he could stand it, and he was almost grateful for the cowboy's nasal twang.
"Oil?" he said.
"Oh, no," Her Majesty said. "The Government is providing this money."
"The Government?"
"Certainly," Her Majesty said. "The FBI, you know."
There was a long silence.
At last, the dealer said: "Five-card draw your game, ma'am?"
"If you please," Her Majesty said.
The dealer shrugged and, apparently, commended his soul to a gambler's God. He passed the pasteboards around the table with the air of one who will have nothing more to do with the world.
Her Majesty picked up her hand.