What's the
maximum?"
"The same as on the other numbers _en plein_: nine louis."
"Then I'll have that on zero," said Mary.
Many players followed her lead, and every one was calling out "zero" and
pushing or throwing coins to the croupiers to be staked on that chance.
"Zero!"
Mary was paid nine times thirty-five louis, six thousand three hundred
francs, and the others who, superstitiously following her lead, had
risked five-franc pieces and louis on _l'ami de la maison_, shared her
luck in different degrees.
"Zero once more, please, Madame," said Mary to her companion.
"But no! impossible! It will be something else."
"Perhaps. Still--I will try."
She was right. Zero came again, followed by louder rounds of applause.
By this time the whole Casino knew what was going on. A glorified
amateur, an English girl, was winning maximums on numbers again and
again, in succession, at the table nearest the wall-portrait of the
architect, in the Salle Schmidt. Non-players or discouraged losers bore
down upon the "architect's table," running even from the distant
trente-et-quarante room.
The story sounded rather like a fairy tale, but the enormous crowd round
the centre of interest, and the comparatively slack business being done
at other tables, proved its truth. None of the newcomers, even the
tallest, could see, but they could hear, and they could feel the thrill
from the inner circle.
"And now, Mademoiselle? What will you do? Remember, your luck can't go
on forever," murmured Madame d'Ambre, anxious to divide the spoil, which
might yet vanish like fairy gold.
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