3.
He spent three days painting at Cap Ferrat. He started early each morning and returned late, drunk with fresh air and sunshine. Then on the fourth day he rested and found his way in due course to the Casino. Mr. Gimp was still replacing MacTaggart.
“I expect Mac will be on deck again to-morrow,” Mr. Gimp said in response to his inquiry. “He can’t afford to lie off much longer. You know he’s working on a mere two or three hundred francs of capital. He lives on fifteen francs a day. If he don’t make ’em, he goes hungry. I know for a fact, lots of nights, he makes a supper of dry bread. That’s what’s killing him,—the worry of making his day. If he could afford to play with higher stakes, say louis instead of five franc pieces, it would be different. He’s got all kinds of faith in his system; sure there’s a fortune in it.”
“I had no idea he was so short.”
“Oh, there’s lots like that,—a good front and behind it starvation.... Just look at that Dago Castelli,—there’s a dashing, sporty player if you like.”
The handsome Italian was playing a brilliant paroli game. He played between three tables, putting a louis on each of the simple chances. If they were swept away he replaced them; if they won he left them on with the louis of gain. He continued to leave on stake and gains for six wins, then he took them up. This did not occur very often; but when it did it netted him thirty-two louis. The game was an unusual one, lively, easy to play, and interesting. Castelli always played this same game, and frequently with great success. That day, however, runs of six were rare and his louis were being swept away like leaves before the wind.
Hugh persisted in his decision not to play. He saw chance after chance to win, but let them go by. He was finished. He turned from the game and watched the players. The woman in grey came and went, always throwing a louis on number one. He saw her play several times at three different tables but without success. After looking on awhile, she went slowly away. The latest rumour he had heard concerning her was that she was a celebrated actress who had recently been acquitted of a case of crime passionel.
As he was wondering who she really was, a curious conversation attracted his attention. A big, ruddy Englishman was talking to a small shabby individual with a blotched face and gold-rimmed spectacles. The little man was saying:
“In six weeks from to-day you will pay me fifteen thousand francs. To-day I give you thirteen thousand, five hundred. That is understood, is it not?”
“Yes, that is understood.”