m the kitchens, the clash of closing elevator doors, gradually
ceased; only at long intervals one heard the hurried step of a bell-boy
in the hall outside and the clink of the ice in the water pitcher that
he was carrying. Outside a great quiet seemed in a sense to rise from
the sleeping city, the noises in the streets died away. The last
electric car went down Kearney Street, getting under way with a long
minor wail. Occasionally a belated coupe, a nighthawk, rattled over the
cobbles, while close by, from over the roofs, the tall slender stack
upon the steam laundry puffed incessantly, three puffs at a time, like
some kind of halting clock. The room became more and more close, none of
them would take the time to open the window, from ceiling to floor the
air was fouled by their breathing, by the tobacco smoke and by the four
flaring gas-jets. By this time a sombre excitement burnt in their eyes
and quivered in their fingers. Never for an instant did their glances
leave the cards. Ellis was drinking whisky again, mixed with soda, his
hand continually groping for the glass with a mechanical gesture; the
Dummy was so excited he could not keep his cigar alight, and contented
himself with chewing the end with an hysterical motion of his jaws. The
perspiration stood in beads on the back of Vandover's hands, running
down in tiny rivulets between his fingers, his teeth were shut close
together and he was breathing short through his nose, a fine trembling
had seized upon his hands so that the chips in his palm rattled like
castanets. In the stale and murky atmosphere of the overheated room in
the midst of the vast silence of the sleeping city they played on
steadily.

Then they began to "plunge," agreeing to play a no limit game and
raising the value of a red chip to ten dollars; at times they even
played with the coins themselves when their chips were exhausted.
Vandover had lost all his ready money, and now for a long time had been
gambling with the five hundred dollars he had that day drawn from the
bank. Ellis had practically put the Dummy out of the play, and now the
game was between him and Vandover. Ellis was banking, and at length
offered to sell the bank to either one of them. For the first time since
the real gambling began they commenced to talk a little, but in short,
brief sentences, answering by monosyllables and by signs.

"How much for the bank?" inquired Ellis, holding up the deck and looking
from one to the o