“Yes, it was a gala night at Café de Paris. Masked dancers and all that sort of thing. Very jolly. But I’m gay for another reason. Look....”
He spread on the table five notes of a thousand francs each. “There! Gaze, gloat, marvel—the bank’s money.”
Her obvious awe was touched with anxiety.
“And you’ve made all that?”
“All.”
“You’re wonderful. You’ll stop now, I hope.”
“Stop nothing! I’m going on. I’ve got a lucky streak.”
“You’ll lose it all again.”
“Tant pis! I’m going to risk it. I’m going to play big. I say, you’d better come and watch me.”
“Never! I couldn’t. The emotion! It would be painful.”