"Oh, yes, I'll come in. What are you playing?"
"Usual thing: sixpenny ante and five-shilling limit."
"Let's have it a shilling ante and a sovereign limit," he proposed, as they made room for him at the table, and to this they agreed, and the game began.
At first Lionel could get no hands at all, but he never went out; sometimes he drew four cards to an ace or a queen, sometimes he took the whole five; while his losses, if steady, were not material. Occasionally he bluffed, and got a small pot; but it was risky, as he was distinctly in a run of bad luck. At last he was dealt nine, ten, knave, queen, ace, in different suite. This looked better.
"How many?" asked the dealer.
"I will take one card, if you please," he said, throwing away the ace.
He glanced at the card, as he put it into his hand: it was a
king; he had a straight. Then he watched what the others were taking. The player on his left also asked for one—a doubtful intimation. His next neighbor asked for two—probably he had three of a kind. The dealer threw up his cards. The age had already taken three—no doubt he had started with the common or garden pair.
It was Lionel's turn to bet.
"Well," said he, "I will just go five shillings on this little lot."