I shook my head.

“All the better.  Fortune always favours beginners, and if it does I shall be well recompensed to have so handsome a youth beside me,” and with this she turned to the game again.

At her right sat a grey-headed man with worn face and wolfish eyes, who might have been expected to take this as a hint to make way.  But he never heard a word.  All his sense was concentrated on the board before him, and his only motion was to bend more closely and eagerly over the play.  Tom whispered in my ear—­

“You have the money, Jasper; take her advice if you really mean to play this farce out.  Take the seat if you get a chance, and play your own game.”

“You have been here before,” I answered, “and know more about the game.”

“Here before!  Yes, to my cost.  No, no, the idea of play is your own and you shall carry it out.  I am always unlucky, and as for knowledge of the game, you can pick that up by watching a round or two; it’s perfectly simple.”

Again the bank had won.  At the left hand of our hostess stood a stolid man holding a small shovel with which he gathered in the winnings.  All around were faces as of souls in torture; even the features of the winners (and these were few enough) scarcely expressed a trace of satisfaction, but seemed rather cast into some horrible trance in which they saw nothing but the piles of coin, the spinning needle, and the flashing hands of the woman that turned it.  She all the while sat passionless and cold, looking on the scene as might some glittering and bejewelled sphinx.

As I gazed, as the needle whirled and stopped and once more whirled, the mad excitement of the place came creeping upon me.  The glittering fingers of our hostess fascinated me as a serpent holds its prey.  The stifling heat, the glare, the confused murmurs mounted like strong wine into my brain.  The clink and gleam of the gold as it passed to and fro, the harsh voice of the man with the shovel calling at intervals, “Put on your money, gentlemen,” the mechanical progress of the play, confused and staggered my senses.  I forgot Tom, forgot the reason of our coming, forgot even where I was, so absorbed was I, and craned forward over the hurrying wheel, as intent as the veriest gambler present.

I was aroused from my stupor by a muttered curse, as the grey-headed man before me staggered up from his chair, and left the table with desperate eyes and stupid gait.  As he rose the jewelled fingers made a slight motion, and I dropped into the vacant seat.

The bank was still winning.  At our hostess’ left hand rose a swelling pile of gold and silver that time after time absorbed all the smaller heaps upon the black and red spaces.  Meanwhile the woman had scarcely spoken, but as the needle went round once more, slackened and stopped—­this time amid deep and desperate execrations—­she turned to me and said—­

“Now is your time to break the bank if you wish.  Play boldly; I should like to lose to so proper a man.”