We always played on parole with anybody: any person, that is, of honour and noble lineage.

We never pressed for our winnings or declined to receive promissory notes in lieu of gold.
But woe to the man who did not pay when the note became due! Redmond de Balibari was sure to wait upon him with his bill, and I promise you there were very few bad debts: on the contrary, gentlemen were grateful to us for our forbearance, and our character for honour stood unimpeached.

In later times, a vulgar national prejudice has chosen to cast a slur upon the character of men of honour engaged in the profession of play; but I speak of the good old days in Europe, before the cowardice of the French aristocracy (in the shameful Revolution, which served them right) brought discredit and ruin upon our order.

They cry fie now upon men engaged in play; but I should like to know how much more honourable THEIR modes of livelihood are than ours.

The broker of the Exchange who bulls and bears, and buys and sells, and dabbles with lying loans, and trades on State secrets, what is he but a gamester?
The merchant who deals in teas and tallow, is he any better?
His bales of dirty indigo are his dice, his cards come up every year instead of every ten minutes, and the sea is his green table.