'The gaming table!' he groaned. 'The gaming table! I never thought of that. Sir, do you know what you mean—the gaming table?'
No one but a money-lender knows all that may be meant by the gaming table.
'I know what I say. Matthew told you the truth. Everything has gone: ruin stares him in the face——Your money is gone with the rest.'
'The gaming table. And I never suspected it.... The gaming table!' He fell into a kind of trance or fit, with open mouth, white cheeks, and fixed eyes. This lasted only for a few moments.
'Mr. Probus,' I went on, 'I cannot say that I am sorry for your misfortunes; but I hope we shall never meet again.'
He got up, slowly. His face was full of despair. I confess that I pitied him. For he gave way altogether to a madness of grief.
'Gone?' he cried. 'No—no—no—not gone—it can't be gone.' He threw himself into a chair and buried his face in his hands. He sobbed: he moaned: when he lifted his head again his features were distorted. 'It is my all,' he cried. 'Oh! you don't know what it is to lose your all. I can never get any more—I am old: I have few clients left—I get no new ones: the old cannot get new clients: my character is not what it was: they cry out after me in the street: they say I lend money at cent. per cent.—why not? They call me old cent. per cent. If I lose this money I am indeed lost.'
'We cannot help you, Mr. Probus.'
'Oh! yes, do what I ask you. Sell your chance. You will never outlive your cousin. You will save my life. Think of saving a man's life. As for your cousin, let him go his own way. I hate him. It is you, you, Mr. William, I have always loved.'
'No.'