Carl stirred and a spasm of mirthless laughter shook him.
"So," he said, "Philip Poynter loses--and I--I write to Houdania!" So from the bottle rose a phantom of glittering gold and temptation to grow in time to a wraith of gigantic proportions.

In the bottle to-night had lain tears and jest and love unending, romance and passion, treachery and irony--blood and the shadow of Death..