had he risen than the bank lost to the side he had just left. His demeanour on receiving this insult at the hands of the jade who had just injured him, if not imperturbable like the Englishman's—and on the contrary, it was all animation—was quite as undecipherable. Not the shrewdest scrutiny could detect whether or no the heart was heavy within, whether the brain which worked behind those astute blue eyes was a prey to anxiety, or in reality as untroubled as those eyes chose to proclaim.
Yet the loss of a thousand pounds would break half the world, and seriously cripple nine-tenths of the remaining half.
The Englishman followed him with thoughtful eyes, as he lighted a cigarette, and with his hands thrust into his trouser pockets, sauntered away into the vestibule.
The young man wandered up and down the marble floor of the vestibule, coaxing his feet to keep straight along a certain line of green marble lozenges which were set at the corners of larger slabs. He amused himself by imagining there was a tremendous precipice on either side of the line, down which the smallest false step would precipitate him. Meanwhile, the man he liked best in the world walked by his side, and endeavoured to draw his attention to more weighty matters.
"There was something crooked about his play, I'll bet you," insinuated this Other. "Why else did you think of the little Professor?"
"Hang it all!" said the young man, carefully keeping his equilibrium, "why shouldn't I think of him? And you see if I could have held on for another turn, I should have won everything back."
"Don't tell me footle like that," came the answer. "Don't
