"There can be no foul play at the public tables, especially when foul play would make against the bank?" This question was put by Glyndon.
"Certainly not," replied the count. "But our good fortune was, indeed, marvellous — so extraordinary, that a Sicilian (the Sicilians are all ill-bred, bad-tempered fellows) grew angry and insolent. 'Sir,' said he, turning to my new friend, 'you have no business to stand so near to the table. I do not understand this; you have not acted fairly.' Zanoni replied, with great composure, that he had done nothing against the rules — that he was very sorry that one man could not win without another man losing; and that he could not act unfairly, even if disposed to do so. The Sicilian took the stranger's mildness for apprehension, and blustered more loudly. In fact, he rose from the table, and confronted Zanoni in a manner that, to say the least of it, was provoking to any gentleman who has some quickness of temper, or some skill with the small-sword."
"And," interrupted Belgioso, "the most singular part of the whole to me was, that this Zanoni, who stood opposite to where I sat, and whose face I distinctly saw, made no remark, showed no resentment. He fixed his eyes steadfastly on the Sicilian: never shall I forget that look! it is impossible to describe it — it froze the blood in my veins. The Sicilian staggered back, as if struck. I saw him tremble; he sank on the bench. And then"
"Yes, then," said Cetoxa, "to my infinite surprise,
