A second twelve and a third were put down, and on each
occasion he won. In the silly imagination of his heart he declared to
himself that the calculation of all chances was as nothing against his
run of luck. Here was the spot on which it was destined that he should
redeem all the injury which fortune had done him. And in truth this man
had been misused by fortune. His companion whispered in his ear, but he
heard not a word of it. He increased the twelve to fifteen, and again
won. As he looked round there was a halo of triumph which seemed to
illuminate his face. He had chained Chance to his chariot-wheel and
would persevere now that the good time had come. What did he care for
the creature at his elbow? He thought of all the good things which money
could again purchase for him as he carefully fingered the gold for the
next stake. He had been rich, though he was now poor; though how could a
man be accounted poor who had an endless sum of six hundred napoleons in
his pocket, a sum which was, in truth, endless, while it could be so
rapidly recruited in this fashion? The next stake he also won, but as he
raked all the pieces which the croupier pushed toward him his mind had
become intent on another sphere and on other persons.
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