joker (though, really, I ought to have retained it!) and began
shuffling the shiny pasteboards. I dare say that those around me sat
up and took notice. It was by no means a common sight to see a man
gravely shuffling a pack of cards in a public restaurant. Nobody
interfered, doubtless because nobody knew exactly what to do in the
face of such an act, for which no adequate laws had been provided. A
waiter stood solemnly at the end of the table, scratching his chin
thoughtfully, wondering whether he should report this peculiarity of
constitution and susceptibility occasioning certain peculiarities of
effect from impress of extraneous influences (_vide_ Webster),
synonymous with idiocrasy and known as idiosyncrasy. It was quite
possible that I was the first man to establish such a precedent in
Monsieur Mouquin's restaurant. Thus, I aroused only passive curiosity.

From the corner of my eye I observed the old gentleman opposite. He
was peering over the top of his paper, and I could see by the glitter
in his eye that he was a confirmed player of solitaire. The girl,
however, still appeared to be in a dreaming state. I have no doubt
every one who saw me thought that anarchy was abroad again, or that
Sherlock Holmes had entered into his third incarnation.

Finally I squared the pack, took a long-breath, and cut. I turned up
the card. It was the ten-spot of hearts. I considered this most
propitious; hearts being my long suit in everything but love,--love
having not yet crossed my path. I put the card in my wallet, and was
about to toss the rest of the pack under the table, when, a woman's
voice stayed my hand.

"Don't throw them away. Tell my fortune first."