celebrated Chekalinsky, who had passed all his life at the card table,
and had amassed millions, accepting bills of exchange for his
winnings, and paying his losses in ready money. His long experience
secured for him the confidence of his companions, and his open house,
his famous cook, and his agreeable and fascinating manners, gained for
him the respect of the public. He came to St. Petersburg. The young
men of the capital flocked to his rooms, forgetting balls for cards,
and preferring the emotions of faro to the seductions of flirting.
Naroumoff conducted Hermann to Chekalinsky's residence.

They passed through a suite of rooms, filled with attentive domestics.
The place was crowded. Generals and Privy Counsellors were playing at
whist, young men were lolling carelessly upon the velvet-covered
sofas, eating ices and smoking pipes. In the drawing-room, at the head
of a long table, around which were assembled about a score of players,
sat the master of the house keeping the bank. He was a man of about
sixty years of age, of a very dignified appearance; his head was
covered with silvery white hair; his full, florid countenance
expressed good-nature, and his eyes twinkled with a perpetual smile.
Naroumoff introduced Hermann to him. Chekalinsky shook him by the hand
in a friendly manner, requested him not to stand on ceremony, and then
went on dealing.

The game occupied some time. On the table lay more than thirty cards.
Chekalinsky paused after each throw, in order to give the players time
to arrange their cards and note down their losses, listened politely
to their requests, and more politely still, straightened the corners
of cards that some player's hand had chanced to bend. At last the game
was finished. Chekalinsky shuffled the cards, and prepared to deal
again.