Brodie. Treys! Death and the pit! How much have you got there?
Rivers. A cool forty-five.
Brodie. I play you thrice the lot.
Rivers. Who’s afraid?
Smith. Stand by, Badger!
Rivers. Cinq-ace.
Brodie. My turn now. (He juggles in and uses the second pair of dice.) Aces! Aces again! What’s this? (Picking up dice.) Sold!... You play false, you hound!
Rivers. You lie!
Brodie. In your teeth. (Overturns table, and goes for him.)