Do you want to play poker ?" They played for upward of an hour that evening, and Condy, as usual, lost.

His ill-luck was positively astonishing.

During the last two months he had played poker with Blix on an average of three or four evenings in the week, and at the close of every game it was Blix who had all the chips.
Blix had come to know the game quite as well, if not better, than he.
She could almost invariably tell when Condy held a good hand, but on her part could assume an air of indifference absolutely inscrutable.
"Cards ?" said Condy, picking up the deck after the deal.
"I'll stand pat, Condy." "The deuce you say," he answered, with a stare.

"I'll take three." "I'll pass it up to you," continued Blix gravely.
"Well--well, I'll bet you five chips." "Raise you twenty." Condy studied his hand, laid down the cards, picked them up again, scratched his head, and moved uneasily in his place.

Then he threw down two high pairs.
"No," he said; "I won't see you.