she could easily replace it from her winnings. After all she had been responsible for the presence of the check among the proceeds. Her beauty, her gameness, her daring had brought Rao-Singh and his wealth into the bidding. Who had a better right to borrow it now—temporarily? Desperation is a ruthless persuader.
She saw that the stakes the strangers at her table were playing for were high. Very well. Little ventured, little gained. "Give me a thousand dollars in chips and four thousand in cash," she instructed the banker and presented her check. He glanced at the signature and back to her with cynical interest. He knew Rao-Singh by name and his checks were honored in the place. Also that the Hindu had a weakness for white-skinned women. Another of his string? A beautiful prize, but they all fell—
He produced the disks and a roll of bills and pushed them toward Carmelita. She took a deep breath. Now for it! She must win!
And at the first few turns of the wheel she did win. The polished spokes flashed. "Fourteen," the banker announced in his monotonous professional voice and Carmelita had doubled her thousand dollar risk. Twice more she won. But the laws of chance are immutable, and the fate that had seemed to pursue her
