It won. He let the money lie, and it
won again. A third time and a fourth he left the notes on, and still
luck was with him. He was in for a good run.
As it happened, nobody else had been playing higher than _plaques_, the
handsome hundred franc gold pieces coined for the Principality of
Monaco; and people began to watch the new comer, as they always do one
who plays high and is lucky. On the fifth deal he had won the maximum.
He took off half, and was leaving the rest to run, when a voice close to
his shoulder said, "Oh, do take it all off. I feel it's going to lose
now. To please _me_."
[Illustration: He took off half, and was leaving the rest to run, when a
voice close to his shoulder said, "Oh, do take it all off." Page 12.
--_Rosemary._]
He glanced aside, and saw an exceedingly pretty, dark face, which looked
vaguely familiar. With a smile, he took up all the notes, and only just
in time. Couleur lost; inverse won.
"Oh, I'm so glad," said the owner of the pretty face. She spoke English
with a slight, but bewitching foreign accent; and her eyes shone at him
like brown jewels under the tilted brim of a hat made all of pink and
crimson roses.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25