The play was high and the gamesters too absorbed to note anything but the game.

From the ball-room came the sound of violin, flute and harpsichord, shrieks of shrill laughter, oaths from drunken wranglers and the continual thump of feet.
Then the servants brought in coffee, extinguished the candles and drew back the curtains.
"Good lord, we're more like a party of painted corpses than creatures of flesh and blood," cried a lady with excessively rouged cheeks, bright bird-like eyes and a long, thin hooked nose.

"I declare positively I'll play no more.

Besides the luck's all one way, but 'tis not my fault.

I don't want to win every time." "How generous--how thoughtful of your ladyship," sarcastically remarked a handsome woman on the other side of the table.
"What do you mean, madam ?" fiercely inquired the first speaker who was now standing.
"Oh, nothing madam," was the retort accompanied by a curtsey of mock humility.