She felt that he considered she was doing a great deal.
"It's unfair to let such playing go without earning something," he said after a time, slipping his finger into the little coin pocket of his coat.

"Let's play for dimes." "All right," said Drouet, fishing for bills.
Hurstwood was quicker.

His fingers were full of new ten-cent pieces.
"Here we are," he said, supplying each one with a little stack.
"Oh, this is gambling," smiled Carrie.

"It's bad." "No," said Drouet, "only fun.

If you never play for more than that, you will go to Heaven." "Don't you moralise," said Hurstwood to Carrie gently, "until you see what becomes of the money." Drouet smiled.
"If your husband gets them, he'll tell you how bad it is." Drouet laughed loud.
There was such an ingratiating tone about Hurstwood's voice, the insinuation was so perceptible that even Carrie got the humour of it.
"When do you leave ?" said Hurstwood to Drouet.
"On Wednesday," he replied.
"It's rather hard to have your husband running about like that, isn't it ?" said Hurstwood, addressing Carrie.
"She's going along with me this time," said Drouet.
"You must both go with me to the theatre before you go." "Certainly," said Drouet.