Yesterday you lost." "But to-day I shall win.

I want to give you something I saw in a shop.
Oh, a beautiful thing." Then I feel a hand steal into the pocket of my dinner jacket where I carry loose silver for this very purpose, just as a lover of horses carries lumps of sugar for the nose of a favourite pony, and immediately it is withdrawn with a cry of joy and triumph, and she skips back out of my reach.

Then she takes my arm and leads me from the sweet night-air into the hot little room with its crowd around the nine gyrating animals.
"I shall put it on 5.

I always put on 5.

He is a nice, clean, white, pretty horse." She stakes two francs, watches the turn in a tense agony of excitement; she wins, comes running to me with sixteen francs clutched tight in her hand.
"See.