These rooms are for ardent gamblers who dislike playing
in a crowd, and Vanno, who had not felt inclined to play at all,
scarcely remembered their existence. Now he bought a ticket, however,
and having written his name upon it, followed Carleton at a little
distance, to a door at the far end of the trente et quarante rooms. His
heart was beating heavily, for in a few minutes he would perhaps know to
whom Mary had gone when she left the Hotel de Paris.
XIX
Even the new rooms were crowded, and preoccupied as he was, it struck
Vanno oddly, as it always did strike him anew in the Casino, to hear
every one who passed talking of the all-absorbing game. They were
obsessed by it, and threw questions to each other, which elsewhere would
have meant nothing, or some very different thing; but here no
explanations were needed. "Doing any good?" asked a pallid young man
with a twitching face, like that of a galvanized corpse, as he met a
weary-eyed woman in mourning, whose bare hands glittered with rings.
"No," she answered peevishly. "You never saw such tables--all running to
intermittences. Nobody can do anything, except the old man who lives on
two-one." Then the pair began speaking of Miss Grant, for her name was
common property. She was one of the celebrities of the season.
Vanno went on, pausing at each table in the immense Empire room, whose
pale green walls glittered with Buonaparte's golden bees; and everywhere
he heard the same questions: "How are you doing? Tables treating you
well?" Or, "Have you seen Miss Grant? She's simply throwing away money
to-night.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288