But Alicia refused to listen to her. Her inspiration was not exhausted. There still remained great things for her to do; and when the time came for her to stop, she would be aware of it sooner than the rest.
Michael had been present at this struggle, which had been annoying to him. Every afternoon, when he entered the Casino, he called himself names, as though he were doing something cowardly. Why did he come to witness the acts of that mad woman? She did not seem to be aware of his presence! At first a look, a smile, and during the remaining hours she had eyes for nothing save the gambling and the croupiers. In spite of this, the Prince kept coming regularly.
To excuse himself, he recalled certain words which the Duchess had said. The day following her first famous winning, she had arisen on seeing him enter the room, taken both his hands in hers to speak to him privately.
"You bring me good luck," she murmured in his ear. "I am sure that this is so. I have been winning since we became friends. Come, come all the time! Let me see you every time I raise my eyes."
She raised them, however, very, very seldom. She had other more urgent things to think of. But Michael, to quiet his angry conscience, told himself that he was there to keep his word. Besides, who knew but what she was telling the truth! The tendency to superstition, common to all gamblers, the Casino's surroundings and even Alicia's luck itself, had finally influenced the credulity of the Prince.
He tried to avenge himself for these long waits and her indifference by looking at her with scornful eyes.
"How ugly she looks!"
Yes, she was ugly, like all the women who gamble and seem to suffer at an ever increasing rate, the weight of years crushing out their youth under the stress of emotion. Every loss meant another year, every winning meant a look of tenseness which spoiled the regularity of their features. Michael took a certain joy in noting the wrinkles which fixed attention formed about her eyes. Her nose seemed to grow sharp, and two deep furrows drew down the corners of her mouth, giving her an expression of premature old age. All the little feminine attentions disappeared as the hours went by. Her hat tilted to one side; locks of hair made an effort to escape, as though disarranged by currents of human electricity darting among their roots. She seemed ten years older.
But a second voice within gave forth a different opinion. "Yes, she was very ugly, but so interesting!" Surely when she arose from the table she would be once more the same Alicia as ever.
One afternoon, on entering the Casino, he had a sense of something extraordinary happening. People were talking together, asking news, all of them hurrying toward the same table.