rphosis of the vulture. And where else
would her ladyship have graciously consented to sit by that dry-lipped
feminine figure prematurely old, withered after short bloom like her
artificial flowers, holding a shabby velvet reticule before her, and
occasionally putting in her mouth the point with which she pricked her
card? There too, very near the fair countess, was a respectable London
tradesman, blonde and soft-handed, his sleek hair scrupulously parted
behind and before, conscious of circulars addressed to the nobility and
gentry, whose distinguished patronage enabled him to take his holidays
fashionably, and to a certain extent in their distinguished company.
Not his gambler's passion that nullifies appetite, but a well-fed
leisure, which, in the intervals of winning money in business and
spending it showily, sees no better resource than winning money in play
and spending it yet more showily--reflecting always that Providence had
never manifested any disapprobation of his amusement, and dispassionate
enough to leave off if the sweetness of winning much and seeing others
lose had turned to the sourness of losing much and seeing others win.
For the vice of gambling lay in losing money at it. In his bearing
there might be something of the tradesman, but in his pleasures he was
fit to rank with the owners of the oldest titles. Standing close to his
chair was a handsome Italian, calm, statuesque, reaching across him to
place the first pile of napoleons from a new bagful just brought him by
an envoy with a scrolled mustache. The pile was in half a minute pushed
over to an old bewigged woman with eye-glasses pinching her nose. There
was a slight gleam, a faint mumbling smile about the lips of the old
woman; but the statuesque Italian remained impassive, and--probably
secure in an infallible system which placed his foot on the neck of
chance--immediately prepared a new pile. So did a man with the air of
an emaciated beau or worn-out libertine, who looked at life through one
eye-glass, and held out his hand tremulously when he asked for change.
It could surely be no severity of system, but rather some dream of
white crows, or the induction that the eighth of the month was lucky,
which inspired the fierce yet tottering impulsiveness of his play.

But, while every single player differed markedly from every other,
there was a certain uniform negativeness of expression which had the
effect of a mask--as if they had all eaten of s