"Ah, señor," and she bent toward him in seductive whisper, "so my lady,
de Americana, let you escape early to-night!"
Surprised at her recognition, he failed to answer immediately, and the
girl touched him gently with her hand.
"De girls of my race never so cold, señor. Try me some time, an' see."
With a happy laugh and coquettish uplifting of the dark eyes, the
dancer was as quickly gone, vanishing into the throng like a flash of
red flame. For a breathless moment Winston's admiring gaze followed,
conscious merely of her dark beauty, her slender, graceful figure. He
was young, impressionable, and there was rare witchery about the girl
which momentarily fascinated him. His attention shifted back to
Farnham with a swift remembrance of the stern purpose which had brought
him there. The gambler was playing out his case silently, emotionless
as ever. If he had observed anything unusual, if he considered
anything beyond his card-play, no eye could have detected it in that
impassive countenance, those cold, expressionless eyes. Apparently he
was a mere automaton, the sole symbol of life showing in the white
fingers so deftly dealing the fateful pasteboards from the box. The
impatient, excited crowd facing him moved restlessly, cursing or
laughing with each swift turn of play; but he who wrought the spell
neither spoke nor smiled, his face remaining fixed, immutable, as
emotionless as carven granite. Suddenly he glanced meaningly aside,
and, nodding silently to a black-moustached fellow lounging beside the
croupier, rose quickly from his chair. The other as instantly slipped
into it, his hands guarding the few remaining cards, while Farnham
stood for a moment behind the chair, idly looking on. There was no
noticeable interruption to the game, and when the final card came
gliding forth from the silver box, the imperturbable gamester turned
deliberately away from the table, heedless of the desperate struggle
about him, the curses and uproar, and faced the younger man still
leaning against the wall.
"Mr. Winston?" he questioned quietly.
Surprised by this unexpected notice, the other bowed in silent
acknowledgment of his name.
A faint sarcastic smile curved the thin, compressed lips, while Farnham
ran one hand carelessly through his slightly curling hair.
"I should like a few words with you in private," he explained politely.
"There is a vacant room we can use--this way."
Astonished into yielding without protest, and at the same time feeling
sufficiently eager to learn the cause for such a request, Winston
unhesitatingly followed the other through the press, marking as he did
so the slender erectness of that figure in advance, the square set of
the broad shoulders, the easy air of authority with which he cleared
the way. Without ceremony Farnham flung aside a heavy brocaded
curtain, glancing inquiringly into the smaller room thus revealed. It
contained a square table and half a dozen chairs. Three men sat
within, their feet elevated, quietly smoking. The gambler coolly ran
his eyes over their uplifted faces.