There was still another set of white patrons, composed of women; these were not occasional visitors, but five or six of them were regular habituees.  When I first saw them, I was not sure that they were white.  In the first place, among the many colored women who came to the “Club” there were several just as fair; and, secondly, I always saw these women in company with colored men.  They were all good-looking and well-dressed, and seemed to be women of some education.  One of these in particular attracted my attention; she was an exceedingly beautiful woman of perhaps thirty-five; she had glistening copper-colored hair, very white skin, and eyes very much like Du Maurier’s conception of Trilby’s “twin gray stars.”  When I came to know her, I found that she was a woman of considerable culture; she had traveled in Europe, spoke French, and played the piano well.  She was always dressed elegantly, but in absolute good taste.  She always came to the “Club” in a cab, and was soon joined by a well-set-up, very black young fellow.  He was always faultlessly dressed; one of the most exclusive tailors in New York made his clothes, and he wore a number of diamonds in about as good taste as they could be worn in by a man.  I learned that she paid for his clothes and his diamonds.  I learned, too, that he was not the only one of his kind.  More that I learned would be better suited to a book on social phenomena than to a narrative of my life.

This woman was known at the “Club” as the rich widow.  She went by a very aristocratic-sounding name, which corresponded to her appearance.  I shall never forget how hard it was for me to get over my feelings of surprise, perhaps more than surprise, at seeing her with her black companion; somehow I never exactly enjoyed the sight.  I have devoted so much time to this pair, the “widow” and her companion, because it was through them that another decided turn was brought about in my life.

VIII

On the day following our night at the “Club” we slept until late in the afternoon; so late that beginning search for work was entirely out of the question.  This did not cause me much worry, for I had more than three hundred dollars, and New York had impressed me as a place where there was lots of money and not much difficulty in getting it.  It is needless to inform my readers that I did not long hold this opinion.  We got out of the house about dark, went to a restaurant on Sixth Avenue and ate something, then walked around for a couple of hours.  I finally suggested that we visit the same places we had been in the night before.  Following my suggestion, we started first to the gambling house.  The man on the door let us in without any question; I accredited this to my success of the night before.  We went straight to the “crap” room, and I at once made my way to a table, where I was rather flattered by the murmur of recognition which went around.  I played in up and down luck for three or four hours; then, worn with nervous excitement, quit, having lost about fifty dollars.  But I was so strongly possessed with the thought that I would make up my losses the next time I played that I left the place with a light heart.