In spite of himself Langham quailed before the gambler's fury.

"Oh, keep still, Andy! What a nasty-tempered beast you are!" he said
pacifically.

There was a pause, and Gilmore resumed his chair, turning to the window
to hide his emotion; then slowly his scowling glance came back to
Langham.

"He said I was a common card-sharp, eh?" Langham knew that he spoke of
North. "Damn him! What does he call himself?" He threw the stub of his
cigar from him across the room. "Marsh, what does your wife know about
me?" And again there was the catch to his voice.

Langham looked at him in astonishment.

"Know about you--my wife--nothing," he said slowly.

"I suppose she's heard my name?" inquired the gambler.

"No doubt."

"Thinks I rob you at cards, eh?" But Langham made no answer to this.
"Thinks I take your money away from you," continued the gambler. "And
it's your game to let her think that! I wonder what she'd think if she
knew the account stood the other way about? I've been a handy sort of a
friend, haven't I, Marsh? The sort you could use,--and you have used me
up to the limit! I've been good enough to borrow money from, but not
good enough to take home--"