Anastasius had backed his hand with a pile of louis.

To encourage him, and to conciliate the hostile punt, I threw down a hundred-franc note.
"_Les jeux sont faits?
Rien ne va plus_." The banker dealt, two cards to each tableau, two to himself.

Anastasius, trembling with nervous excitement, stretched out a palsied little fist towards the cards.

He drew them towards him, face downwards, peeped at them in the most approved manner, and in a husky voice called for an extra card.
The card dealt face upwards was a five.

The banker turned up his own cards, a two and a four, making a point of six.