"Here's to the gamest Indian of us all," proposed the fat man. "Did you
notice him call me with a pair of tens? And me queen-high!"
Mellin drained a deep glass in honor of himself. "On my soul, Chan'
Pedlow, I think you're the bes' fellow in the whole world," he said
gratefully. "Only trouble with you--you don't want to play high enough."
He won again and again, adding other towers of counters to his original
allotment, so that he had the semblance of a tiny castle. When the cards
had been dealt for the fifth time he felt the light contact of a slipper
touching his foot under the table.
That slipper, he decided (from the nature of things) could belong to
none other than his Helene, and even as he came to this conclusion the
slight pressure against his foot was gently but distinctly increased
thrice. He pressed the slipper in return with his shoe, at the same time
giving Madame de Vaurigard a look of grateful surprise and tenderness,
which threw her into a confusion so evidently genuine that for an
unworthy moment he had a jealous suspicion she had meant the little
caress for some other.
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