Malone wondered if she should be allowed to stay for one more hand. There was, he estimated, about two thousand dollars in front of her. Then he wondered how he was going to stop her. The cards were dealt. The first man said quietly: "Open for two hundred." Malone looked at the Queen's hand. It contained the Ace, King, Queen and ten of clubs--and the seven of spades. _Oh, no._ He thought. _She couldn't possibly be thinking of filling a flush._ He knew perfectly well that she was. The second man said: "And raise two hundred." The Queen equably tossed (counting, Malone thought, the ante) five hundred into the pot. The cowboy muttered to himself for a second, and finally shoved in his money. "I think I'll raise it another five hundred," the Queen said calmly. Malone wanted to die of shock. Unfortunately, he remained alive and watching. He saw the last man, after some debate internal, shove a total of one thousand dollars into the pot. "Cards?" said the dealer. The first man said: "One." It was too much to hope for, Malone thought. If that first man were trying to fill a straight or a flush, maybe he wouldn't make it. And maybe something final would happen to all the other players. But that was the only way he could see for Her Majesty to win. The card was dealt. The second man stood pat and Malone's green tinge became obvious to the veriest dunce. The cowboy, on Her Majesty's right, asked for a card, received it and sat back without a trace of expression. The Queen said: "I'll try one for size." She'd picked up poker lingo, and the basic rules of the game, Malone realized, from the other players--or possibly from someone at the hospital itself, years ago. He wished she'd picked up something less dangerous instead, like a love of big-game hunting, or stunt-flying. But no. It had to be poker. The Queen threw away her seven of spades, showing more sense than Malone had given her credit for at any time during the game. She let the other card fall and didn't look at it. She smiled up at Malone and Boyd. "Live dangerously," she said gaily. Malone gave her a hollow laugh. The last man drew one card, too, and the betting began. The Queen's remaining thousand was gone before an eye could notice it. She turned to Boyd. "Sir Thomas," she said. "Another five thousand, please. At once." Boyd said nothing at all, but marched off. Malone noticed, however, that his step was neither as springy nor as confident as it had been before. For himself, Malone was sure that he could not walk at all. Maybe, he thought hopefully, the floor would open up and swallow them all. He tried to imagine explaining the loss of $20,000 to Burris and some congressmen, and after that he watched the floor narrowly, hoping for the smallest hint of a crack in the palazzo marble. "May I raise the whole five thousand?" the Queen said. "It's okay with me," the dealer said. "How about the rest of you?"