Титан

A Supper Party

           Shewasattractingattention.

           "Onehundredontwelve.Onehundredoneighteen.Onehundredontwenty-six."

           "Goodheavens,whatareyouupto,Lynde?"exclaimedLord,leavingMrs.Rheesandcomingover.Shefollowed.Strangersalsoweregathering.Thebusinessoftheplacewasatitstopmosttossitbeingtwoo’clockinthemorningandtheroomswerefull.

           "Howinteresting!"observedMissLanman,attheotherendofthetable,pausinginherplayingandstaring.McKibben,whowasbesideher,alsopaused."They’replunging.Dolookatallthemoney!Goodness,isn’tshedaring-lookingandhe?"Aileen’sshiningarmwasmovingdeftly,showilyabout.

           "Lookatthebillshe’sbreaking!"Lyndewastakingoutathicklayeroffresh,yellowbillswhichhewasexchangingforgold."Theymakeastrikingpair,don’tthey?"

           TheboardwasnowpracticallycoveredwithLynde’sgoldinquaintlittlestacks.HehadfollowedasystemcalledMazarin,whichshouldgivehimfiveforone,andpossiblybreakthebank.Quiteacrowdswarmedaboutthetable,theirfacesglowingintheartificiallight.Theexclamation"plunging!""plunging!"wastobeheardwhisperedhereandthere.Lyndewasdelightfullycoolandstraight.Hislithebodywasquiteerect,hiseyesreflective,histeethsetoveranunlightedcigarette.Aileenwasexcitedasachild,delightedtobeoncemorethecenterofcomment.Lordlookedatherwithsympatheticeyes.Helikedher.Well,letherheamused.

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