They are not without hearts, these messieurs! Ever
since they have supported him. When he comes into his fortune, perhaps
he will pay them--who knows? But in any case, he will disappear and be
no more seen. We think he is a spy."
"A spy?" Mary repeated. "What would a spy do here?"
"My poor amateur! There are many. For one thing, they watch for thieves:
people who claim the money of others as their own, at the tables. That
is quite a way of living. Sometimes it goes very well. But it is a
little dangerous. Do you want to play, Mademoiselle? You are sure to
have luck on your first night. Even I used to have luck at first."
"Have you none now?" Mary asked, pityingly.
"Oh, I have no longer even the money to try my luck--to see whether it
has come back. Yet once I won twenty thousand francs, all from one louis
at trente et quarante, and at one seance. That was a night! a memory to
live on. And at present it is well I have it to live on, as there is
nothing else."
"Oh, how sad, how sad!" exclaimed Mary. "If only you would let me help
you a little--in some way."
"You are very good, but of course I could not accept charity," said the
pale rose, looking down at her faded lace and muslin finery. "Still, if
I bring you luck at the game, and you win, I shall feel I have earned
something, is it not?"
"Yes, indeed," Mary assured her, delighted with the simple solution.
"But it seems impossible to get near a table."
"It is not impossible," said the other, a gleam bright as the flash of a
needle darting from her jade gray eyes.
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