And I want it, all right." "Very well.

What is it ?" He passed his swollen hand across his forehead.
"What is it ?" he repeated.

"It's the limit, this time, if you want to know.

I'm all in." "Roulette ?" raising her eyebrows without interest "Yes, roulette, too.

Everything! They got me upstairs at Burbank's.
The game's crooked! Every box, every case, every wheel, every pack is crooked! crooked! crooked, by God!" he burst out in a fever, struggling to sit upright, his hands always tightening on the arms of the chair.
"It's nothing but a creeping joint, run by a bunch of hand-shakers! I--I'll--" Stuttering, choking, stammering imprecations, his hoarse clamour died away after a while.