'Brandy.' He was in no mood for the niceties.
'You want the bottle, ducks?' She had recognized his need.
'That will do for a start,' he agreed.
He drank large brandies, and with a fianit dismay know that they were
having no effect-apart from sharpening his imagination to the point
where he could clearly see Ruth's face before his eyes, complete in
every detail down to the little black beauty spot high on her cheek and
the way the corners of her eyes slanted upwards as she smiled. He
would have to make a more active approach to forgetfulness.
Leaning back with both elbows on the counter and the glass clutched in
his right hand, he studied the men about him once more.
Evaluating each of them as a source of distraction and then discarding
and moving his attention on, he was finally left with the small group
around the gaming-table.
Seven players, the game draw poker, and from what he could see the
stakes were modest. He picked up his bottle, crossed the room to join
the circle of spectators and took up his position behind a sergeant of
yeomanry who was receiving a battering from the cards. A few hands
later the sergeant drew one to fill his flush, missed and pushed the
bluff-raising twice until he was called by two pairs across the
table.
He threw his hand 'in and blew through his lips in disgust.
'That cleans me out. ' He gathered the few coins left on the table in
front of him and stood up.
'Rough luck, Jack. Anyone care to take his place?' The winner looked
around the circle of spectators. 'Nice friendly little game, table
stakes. ' 'Deal me in.' Sean sat down, placed his glass and bottle
strategically at his right hand and stacked five gold sovereigns in
front of him.
'The man's got gold! Welcome.'
Sean ducked the first hand, lost two pounds to three queens on the
next, and won five pounds on the third. The pattern of his luck was
set, he played with cold single-mindedness-and when he wanted cards it
seemed he had only to wish for them.
What was the old adage?--Unlucky in love, and the cards turn hot.'
Sean grinned without amusement and filled a small straight with the
five of hearts, beat down the three sevens that came against him and
drew the pot towards him to swell the pile of Ins winnings. Up about
thirty or forty pounds. He was enjoying himself now.
'A small school, gentlemen. ' Three players had dropped out in the
last hour leaving four of them at the table. 'How about giving the
losers a chance to recoup?'
'You want to raise the stakes?' Sean asked the speaker. He was the
only other winner, a big man with a red hice and the smell of horses
about him. Tkansport rider, probably.
'Yes, if everyone agrees. Make the minimum bet five pounds. ' 'Suits
me, ' grunted Sean, and there was a murmur of agreement round the
table. With heavy money out an air of caution prevailed at first, but
slowly the game opened up. Sean's luck cooled a little, but an hour
later he had built up his kitty on a series of small wins to a total of
