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though unable to walk, desired to play was not an everyday phenomenon. I too pressed forward towards the table, and ranged myself by the Grandmother’s side; while Martha and Potapitch remained somewhere in the background among the crowd, and the General, Polina, and De Griers, with Mlle. Blanche, also remained hidden among the spectators.

At first the old lady did no more than watch the gamblers, and ply me, in a half-whisper, with sharp-broken questions as to who was so-and-so. Especially did her favour light upon a very young man who was plunging heavily, and had won (so it was whispered) as much as 40,000 francs, which were lying before him on the table in a heap of gold and banknotes. His eyes kept flashing, and his hands shaking; yet all the while he staked without any sort of calculation⁠—just what came to his hand, as he kept winning and winning, and raking and raking in his gains. Around him lackeys fussed⁠—placing chairs just behind where he was standing⁠—and clearing the spectators from his vicinity, so that he should have more room, and not be crowded⁠—the whole done, of course, in expectation of a generous largesse. From time to time other gamblers would hand him part of their winnings⁠—being glad to let him stake for them as much as his hand could grasp; while beside him stood a Pole in a state of violent, but respectful, agitation, who, also in expectation of a generous largesse, kept whispering to him at intervals (probably telling him what to stake, and advising and directing his play). Yet never once did the player throw him a glance as he staked and staked, and raked in his winnings. Evidently, the player in question was dead to all besides.

For a few minutes the Grandmother watched him.

“Go and tell him,” suddenly she exclaimed with a nudge at my elbow, “⁠—go and tell him to stop, and to take his money with him, and go home. Presently he will be losing⁠—yes, losing everything that he has now won.” She seemed almost breathless with excitement.