Mary saw that it was not necessary to gamble in groups. Men
and even women, all alone, pushed their way through the thick wall of
hats and shoulders round the table, sometimes being lost altogether, or
sometimes emerging again in three or four minutes to scurry across the
shining expanse of floor to another table. By and by, when she began to
feel calmer, Mary ventured near a table in the middle of the room,
within full sight of doors which led to other rooms: a long vista
straight ahead, where all the decorations seemed new and fresh, and a
light white as silver streamed from hanging lamps like diamond pendants
and necklaces for giantesses or goddesses of fortune. So different was
the colour of this light from that of the first great _salle_, that a
silver wall seemed built against a wall of gold.
Standing outside the circle at the table, new sounds in the silence
struck Mary's ear, not emphasizing the heavy silence, as did the
delicate chinking of coins and the announcements of roulette numbers,
but jarring and ruffling its smooth surface: little sudden rustlings and
squabblings, disputes between players in French or German, sharp and
mean, yet insignificant as the quarrelling of a nestful of birds in the
ample peace of a spreading beech tree.
Now and then there seemed a chance that Mary might find a place in the
back row at a table, but some one else, also watching, invariably darted
in ahead of her. Each time the hope came, her heart gave a bound, and
the blood sang in her ears.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111