Rosemary: A Christmas story

								

mingling together seem like the smell of money piled on the green
tables; he was in a mood for the dimmed light like dull gold, gold
sifted into dust by passing through many hands.
He had got his ticket of admission to the Casino, after arriving
yesterday evening; but the Rooms had not pleased him then. He had not
played, and had merely walked through, looking at the people; but now he
went to a trente et quarante table, and reaching over the shoulders of
the players--not so many as in the roulette rooms,--he put a five
hundred franc note on couleur. It won. He let the money lie, and it
won again. A third time and a fourth he left the notes on, and still
luck was with him. He was in for a good run.
As it happened, nobody else had been playing higher than plaques, the
handsome hundred franc gold pieces coined for the Principality of
Monaco; and people began to watch the new comer, as they always do one
who plays high and is lucky. On the fifth deal he had won the maximum.
He took off half, and was leaving the rest to run, when a voice close to
his shoulder said, "Oh, do take it all off. I feel it's going to lose
now. To please me."
He glanced aside, and saw an exceedingly pretty, dark face, which looked
vaguely familiar. With a smile, he took up all the notes, and only just
in time. Couleur lost; inverse won.
"Oh, I'm so glad," said the owner of the pretty face. She spoke English
with a slight, but bewitching foreign accent; and her eyes shone at him
like brown jewels under the tilted brim of a hat made all of pink and
crimson roses. She was rather like a rose, too, a rich, colourful, spicy
rose, of the kind which unfolds early. He knew that he had seen her
before, and wondered where.
After all, it was rather nice to be spoken to by someone other than a
hotel manager or a waiter; someone who was good to look at, and
friendly. He lost interest in the game, and gained interest in the girl.
"Thank you," said he. "You've brought me luck."
"I hope you don't think I speak always to strangers, like that," said
the girl in the rose hat. "But you see, I recognized you at once. I
don't know if you remember me? No, I'm afraid you don't."
"Of course I remember you, only I can't think where we--"
"Why, it was in Paris. You saved my mother's little dog from being run
over one day. We were both so grateful. Afterwards we saw you once or
twice at tea at the Ritz, and you took off your hat, so you must have
remembered then. Ah me, it's a long time ago!"
"Not so very," said the young man. "I remember well, now." (He wished
her mother had not been quite such an appalling person, fat and
painted.) "It was only last October. I'd just come to Paris. It was my
first day there, when I picked up the little dog. Now, on my first day