Page:In a winter city, by Ouida.djvu/136

Rh you don't bet on anything, I don't see what excitement you can get out of them. You won't play—which is the best thing to take to of all, because it will last; the older they grow, the wilder women get about it; look at Spiridion's aunt Seraphine—over eighty—as keen as a ferret over her winnings, and as fierce as a tom-cat over her losses. Now, that is a thing that can't hurt any one, let you say what you like; everybody plays, why won't you? If you lost half your income in one night, it wouldn't ruin you, and you have no idea how delicious it is to get dizzy over the cards; you know one bets even at poker to any amount"

"Thanks; it won't tempt me," answered Lady Hilda. "I have played at Baden, to see if it would amuse me, and it didn't amuse me in the least; no more than M. des Gommeux does! My dearest Mila, I am sure that you people who do excite yourselves over baccarat and poker, and can feel really flattered at having a Maurice always in attendance, and can divert yourselves with oyster suppers and masked balls and cotillon riots, are the happy women of this world, that I Rh