most of his fellow-spinners
wishing to give the impression that he could control the ball.

Twenty-four did not respond to his efforts, but twenty-two was the first
number spun, and as Mary had staked maximums on everything surrounding
her number, she won heavily. Throughout the whole morning luck still
favoured her. She lost sometimes, and her wins were not as sensational
as those of last night, but they made people stare and talk, and added
so many notes to the troublesome contents of her bag that, to the
amusement of everybody, when the time came to go she stuffed gold and
paper into the long gloves she had taken off while playing. Both gloves
were full and bulged out in queer protuberances, like Christmas
stockings. But this was not until nearly two o'clock, when Mary had
grown so hungry that she could no longer concentrate her thoughts upon
the game. Meanwhile, different relays of croupiers and inspectors had
come and gone, and the crowd round the table had changed. Very few
remained of the players who had raced for chairs at the opening hour.
Many had lost and taken themselves off, discouraged; others had a habit
of darting from table to table "for luck"; some had won as much as they
wanted to win, and departed quietly as a man goes home from his office.
But among the few faithful ones were Lord Dauntrey and his royal friend,
who was stared at a good deal, and evidently recognized. By this time
Lord Dauntrey had noticed Mary, his attention being attracted to her by
Dom Ferdinand, but as he had not been introduced to the girl in the
train, he did not bow. The excitement had died from his face, leaving it
gray as the ashes in a burnt-out fire, and his cheeks looked curiously
loose on the bones, as if his muscles had fallen away underneath. Mary
had not taken time to watch his game, but she saw that most of the
silver and gold once neatly piled in front of the two players had
disappeared, and she was afraid that they had lost a good deal. It
seemed unnecessary and almost stupid to her that people should lose. She
did not see why every one could not play as she did.

As she reluctantly rose to go away, driven by hunger, she had to pass
close to Dom Ferdinand and Lord Dauntrey. There was no crowd round the
chairs, as the morning throng had thinned for _dejeuner_, and she heard
Lord Dauntrey say: "I assure you, Monseigneur, it never went as badly as
this on my roulette at home. You saw the records. But nobody can win a