Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 10

           "Therefore,inproposingitasastakeforthisgameatbaccarat,Ireallyproposelessthanonehairofyourhead,becausethehairisasomething,andthesoulisanothing!Come!Willyouriskthatnon-existentquantityforthechanceofwinningathousandpounds?"

           TheViscountdrainedoffthelastdropofbrandy,andturneduponus,hiseyesflushingmingledderisionanddefiance.

           "Done!"heexclaimed;whereuponthepartysatdown.

           Thegamewasbrief—andinitsrapidexcitement,almostbreathless.Sixorsevenminutessufficed,andLuciorose,thewinner.HesmiledashepointedtothecounterwhichhadrepresentedViscountLynton’slaststake.

           "Ihavewon!"hesaidquietly."Butyouowemenothing,mydearViscount,inasmuchasyourisked—Nothing!Weplayedthisgamesimplyforfun.IfsoulshadanyexistenceofcourseIshouldclaimyours;—IwonderwhatIshoulddowithitbytheway!"Helaughedgood-humouredly."Whatnonsense,isn’tit!—andhowthankfulweoughttobethatweliveinadvanceddayslikethepresent,whensuchsillysuperstitionsarebeingsweptasidebythemarchofprogressandpureReason!Good-night!TempestandIwillgiveyou,yourfullrevengeto-morrow—theluckissuretochangebythen,andyouwillprobablyhavethevictory.Again—good-night!"

           Heheldouthishand—therewasapeculiarmeltingtendernessinhisbrilliantdarkeyes—animpressivekindnessinhismanner.

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