The splendid young Venetian was not displeased by Zorzi's attitude
towards him, and presently came and sat beside him.
"I should have explained to you," he said, "that as it would be
impossible for us to meet here without the knowledge of my servants, we
come together on pretence of playing games of chance. My father lives in
our palace near Saint Mark's, and I live here alone."
At this Foscari, the tall man with the black beard, looked at Contarini
and laughed a little. Contarini glanced at him and smiled with some
constraint.
"On such evenings," he continued, "I admit my guests myself, and they
wear masks when they come, for though my servants are dismissed to their
quarters, and would certainly not betray me for a dice-player, they
might let drop the names of my friends if they saw them from an upper
window."
At this juncture Zorzi heard the rattling of dice, and looking down the
table he saw that two of the company were already throwing against each
other. In a few minutes he found himself sitting alone near Zuan Venier,
all the others having either begun to play themselves, or being engaged
in wagering on the play of others.
"And you, sir?" inquired Zorzi of his neighbour.
"I am tired of games of chance," answered the pale nobleman wearily.
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