The Face and the Mask by Robert Barr
page 175 of 280 (62%)
page 175 of 280 (62%)
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"Oh," answered Mellish, "it's a boy--a stranger--who is having the devil's own luck at the start. It will be the ruin of him." "Is he playing high?" "High? I should say so. He's perfectly reckless. He'll be brought up with a sharp turn and will borrow money from me to get out of town. I've seen a flutter like that before." "In that case," said Pony tranquilly, "I must have a go at him. I like to tackle a youngster in the first flush of success, especially if he is plunging." "You will soon have a chance," answered Mellish, "for even Ragstock knows when he has enough. He will get up in a moment. I know the signs." With the air of a gentleman of leisure, somewhat tired of the frivolities of this world, Rowell made his way slowly to the group. As he looked over their shoulders at the boy a curious glitter came into his piercing eyes, and his lips, usually so well under control, tightened. The red mark began to come out as his face paled. It was evident that he did not intend to speak and that he was about to move away again, but the magnetism of his keen glance seemed to disturb the player, who suddenly looked up over the head of his opponent and met the stern gaze of Rowell. The boy did three things. He placed his cards face downward on the table, put his right hand over the pile of money, and moved his chair |
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