I suppose, such is mortal unregeneracy, that it is the most widely understood word in the universe.
"And I," said he, "am eternally beaten.

I am trampled under foot and shall never be able to hold up my head again." Whereupon he renewed his lamentations.

For some time I listened patiently, and from his disconnected remarks I gathered that he had gone to the Cercle Africain in view of his gigantic combinations, but that the demon of gambling taking possession of him had almost driven them from his mind.

Eventually he had lost control of his nerves, a cloud had spread over his brain, and he had committed the unspeakable blunder which led to disaster.
"To think that I should have tracked him down--for this!" he exclaimed tragically.
"What beats me," I cried, "is how the deuce you managed to track him down.

Your magnificent intellect, I suppose"-- I spoke gently and not in open sarcasm--"enabled you to get on the trail." He brightened at the compliment.