No one have more to get than I, only Mishter
Tyrrwhit. Vy, Captain Scarborough, the little game you wash playing
there, which wash a very pretty little game, is as nothing to my game
wish you. When you see the money down, on the table there, it seems to
be mush because the gold glitters, but it is as noting to my little
game, where the gold does not glitter, because it is pen and ink. A pen
and ink soon writes ten thousand pounds. But you think mush of it when
you win two hundred pounds at roulette."
"I think nothing of it," said our friend Captain Scarborough.
"And it goes into your pocket to give champagne to the ladies, instead
of paying your debts to the poor fellows who have supplied you for so
long with all de money."
All this occurred in the gambling-house at a distance from the table,
but within hearing of that attendant who still followed the player.
These moments were moments of misery to the captain in spite of the
bank-notes for six hundred napoleons which were still in his breast
coat-pocket. And they were not made lighter by the fact that all the
words spoken by the Jew were overheard by the man who was supposed to be
there in the capacity of his servant. But the man, as it seemed, had a
mission to fulfil, and was the captain's master as well as servant.
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