Then he gave vent to an almost inaudible "Ah!" for the bit of the key made the complete circuit, at last, and the wards of the lock clicked back into place.
He swung open the heavy iron door, cautiously, listened for a moment, and then struck another match.
That Pobloff might have the bank-notes with him was a contingency; that he would carry about with him two thousand napoleons was an absurdity.
And Durkin knew the money had not been deposited--to ascertain that had been part of his day's work.

The Prince, of course, was a prodigal and free-handed gentleman--how much of his winnings had already leaked through his careless fingers it was impossible to surmise.

Durkin even resented the thought of that extravagance--as though it were a personal and obvious injustice to himself.

If it was all the fruit of blind chance, if it came thus unearned and accidental, why should he not have his share of it?
Already Monte Carlo had taught him the mad necessity for money.

But now, of all times, it was necessary for him.