"When we finish supper, she can go with me to my hotel, and we'll divide
the money into three parts," Mary said to herself. "I'll give her two,
and keep one. Even one will be like a little fortune; and whatever
happens I'll keep enough to get away with; but I _must_ play again
to-morrow. It's too wonderful to stop yet."
But she was reckoning without Jim Schuyler.
When he saw the eyes of Madeleine hint that it was time to go, he said
quickly, "Well, Mademoiselle, have you counted your winnings, and do you
know exactly what they amount to?"
"No," said Mary, "not yet. I thought Madame d'Ambre and I might do that
afterward."
"Can't we save you the trouble?" he asked. "Why not spread your store
here on the table, and let us all work out the calculation? Everybody
knows you broke the bank, so there's no imprudence or ostentation in
displaying your wealth."
Without a word, Mary accepted the suggestion, since not to do so would
have seemed ungrateful.
"She's given away a lot already," said Carleton. "I saw her distributing
_mille_ notes to lovely but unfortunate gamblers, as if she were dealing
out biscuits."
"Oh, I gave away only four," Mary excused herself. "They were nothing."
Everybody laughed except Madeleine.
The fat stacks of French banknotes were extracted with some effort from
the hand-bag into which they had been stuffed. Captain Hannaford and
Schuyler counted while the others watched, Carleton with amused
interest, Mary with comparative indifference, because the actual money
meant less to her than the thrill of winning it, and Madame d'Ambre on
the verge of tears.
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