Wethermill waited with his hand upon the wooden frame in which the cards were stacked.

He glanced round the table while the stakes were being laid upon the cloth, and suddenly his face flashed from languor into interest.

Almost opposite to him a small, white-gloved hand holding a five-louis note was thrust forward between the shoulders of two men seated at the table.

Wethermill leaned forward and shook his head with a smile.

With a gesture he refused the stake.