his hand toward the tables, said:

"I suppose you never condescend to this sort of thing."

"Well--" I smiled indulgently.

"Awful waste of time," he admitted.

I glanced down at the splendid mess of counters and gold and notes
that were now becoming, under the swift fingers of the little man at the
bureau, an orderly array. I did not say aloud that it pleased me to be, and
to be seen, talking on terms of equality to a man who had won so much.
I did not say how wonderful it seemed to me that he, whom I had
watched just now with awe and with aversion, had all the while been a
great admirer of my work. I did but say, again indulgently, that I
supposed baccarat to be as good a way of wasting time as another.

"Ah, but you despise us all the same." He added that he always
envied men who had resources within themselves. I laughed lightly, to
imply that it WAS very pleasant to have such resources, but that I
didn't want to boast. And, indeed, I had never felt humbler, flimsier, than
when the little man at the bureau, naming a fabulous sum, asked its
owner whether he would take the main part in notes of mille francs,
cinq-mille, dix-mille--quoi? Had it been mine, I should have asked to
have it all in five-franc pieces. Pethel took it in the most compendious
form, and crumpled it into his pocket. I asked if he were going to play
any more to-night.

"Oh, later on," he said. "I want to get a little sea air into my lungs
now." He asked, with a sort of breezy diffidence, if I would go with him.