Loser Takes Al

I went down the gang-plank, swaying slightly from the effect of the whisky, and walked up the hill from the port. It was a quarter past eight, and the sight of a clock reminded me for the first time of what I had not told Dreuther. Dreuther had said, “Don’t use money. Money is so obviously sordid. But those little round scarlet disks…You will see, no gambler can resist them.” I went to the Casino and looked for the pair: they were not there. Then I changed all the spare money I had, and when I came out my pocket clinked like Bird’s Nests’ bag.

It took me only a quarter of an hour to find them: they were in the café where we used to go for our meals. I watched them for a little, unseen from the door. Cary didn’t look happy. She had gone there, she told me later, to prove to herself that she no longer loved me, that no sentiment attached to the places where we had been together, and she found that the proof didn’t work out. She was miserable to see a stranger sitting in my chair, and the stranger had a habit she detested—he stuffed the roll into his mouth and bit off the buttered end. When he had finished he counted his resources and then asked her if she would mind not talking for a minute while he checked his system. “We can go up to five hundred francs tonight in the kitchen,” he said, “that is five one-hundred-franc stakes.” He was sitting there with a pencil and paper when I arrived.

I said “Hullo,” from the doorway and Cary turned. She nearly smiled at me from habit—I could see the smile sailing up in her eyes and then she plucked it down like a boy might pluck his kite back to earth, out of the wind.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I am all right.”

“Sometimes one does something and wishes one hadn’t.”

“Not me.”

“I wish you’d be quiet,” the young man said. “What I am working out is very complicated.”

“Philippe, it’s—my husband.”

He looked up, “Oh, good evening,” and began to tap nervously on the table with the end of his pencil.

“I hope you are looking after my wife properly.”

“That’s nothing to do with you,” he said.

“There are certain things you ought to know in order to make her happy. She hates skin on hot milk. Look, her saucer’s full of scraps. You should attend to that before you pour out. She hates small sharp noises—for instance, the crackle of toast—or that roll you are eating. You must never chew nuts either. I hope you are listening. That noise with the pencil will not please her.”

“I wish you would go away,” the young man said.

“I would rather like to talk to my wife alone.”

“I don’t want to be alone with you,” Cary said.

“You heard her. Please go.” It was strange how cleverly Dreuther had forecast our dialogue. I began to have hope.

“I’m sorry. I must insist.”

“You’ve no right…”

Cary said, “Unless you leave us, we’ll both walk out of here. Philippe, pay the bill.”

“Chérie, I do want to get my system straight.”

“I tell you what I’ll do,” I said. “I’m a much older man than you are, but I’ll offer to fight you. If I win, I talk to Cary alone. If you win, I go away and never trouble you again.”

“I won’t have you fighting,” Cary said.

“You heard her.”

“Alternatively, I’ll pay for half an hour with her.”

“How dare you?” Cary said.

I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out fistfuls of yellow and red tokens—five-hundred-franc tokens, thousand-franc tokens, shooting them out on to the table between the coffee cups. He couldn’t keep his eyes off them. They covered his system. I said, “I’d rather fight. This is all the money I’ve got left.”

He stared at them. He said, “I don’t want to brawl.”

Cary said, “Philippe, you wouldn’t…”

I said, “It’s the only way you can get out of here without fighting.”

“Chérie, he only wants half an hour. After all, it’s his right. There are things for you to settle together, and with this money I can really prove my system.”

She said to him in a voice to which in the past week I had become accustomed, “All right. Take his money. Get along into that damned Casino. You’ve been thinking of nothing else all the evening.”

He had just enough grace to hesitate. “I’ll see you in half an hour, chérie.”

I said, “I promise I’ll bring her to the Casino myself. I have something to do there.” Then I called him back from the door, “You’ve dropped a piece,” and he came back and felt for it under the table. Watching Cary’s face I almost wished I hadn’t won.

She was trying hard not to cry. She said, “I suppose you think you’ve been very clever.”

“No.”

“You exposed him all right. You’ve demonstrated your point. What do I do now?”

“Come on board for one night. You’ve got a separate cabin. We can put you off in Genoa tomorrow.”

“I suppose you hope I’ll change my mind?”

“Yes. I hope. It’s not a very big hope, but it’s better than despair. You see, I love you.”

“Would you promise never to gamble again?”

“Yes.”

“Would you throw away that damned system?”

“Yes.”