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Trollope, Anthony, 1815-1882

"Mr. Scarborough's Family"

At present men of business only flocked to its
halls, eagerly intent on making money, though, alas! almost all doomed
to lose it. But our one friend with the long light locks was impatient
for the fray. The gambling-room had now been opened, and the servants
of the table, less impatient than he, were slowly arranging their money
and their cards. Our friend had taken his seat, and was already
resolving, with his eyes fixed on the table, where he would make his
first plunge. In his right hand was a bag of gold, and under his left
hand were hidden the twelve napoleons with which he intended to
commence. On yesterday he had gone through his day's work by twelve,
though on one or two occasions he had plunged deeply. It had seemed to
this man as though a new heaven had been opened to him, as of late he
had seen little of luck in this world. The surmises made as to the low
state of his funds when he entered the room had been partly true; but
time had been when he was able to gamble in a more costly fashion even
than here, and to play among those who had taken his winnings and
losings simply as a matter of course.
And now the game had begun, and the twelve napoleons were duly
deposited. Again he won his stake, an omen for the day, and was
exultant.


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