Little Willberg took out his £50 bank-note. Although he was heavily in debt he felt very proud of his possessions; and as he walked through the streets of the city he had held himself erect and lofty, thinking that everyone must see that he had a £50 bank-note with him. He had felt very rich then, but now in comparison with the sums that glittered forth from the others' purses, he seemed miserably poor; he was ashamed of his limited means, and was filled with envy and ill-will. It was a miserable and deplorable state of affairs always to be obliged to bother about money, and to have to say to oneself: "You mustn't do this and that," and to be perpetually forced to borrow. It would be glorious, even if only for once, to possess a purse full of money; above all, to be able to carry about bank-notes--that would be really too exquisite for anything. If one were stationed in an out-of-the-way little garrison, of course it wouldn't matter whether one had much or little money; but in Berlin, where one mixed with so many distinguished rich people, like those who were their guests to-day, then it was indeed a miserable thing to possess nothing but one wretched £50 note! The game had gone on for a long time--the Uhlan kept the bank. "Well, Willberg, won't you stake something? you were so impatient to play a little while ago." Willberg roused himself; he had been deep in thought; the gold that was clinking on all sides glimmered before him, he had only one wish, one thought to possess it all. "Yes, yes, of course I will play. A hundred marks on the seven--no, two hundred." A second later and he had lost the money. "Two hundred again." He lost that. "Two hundred again." This time he had good luck, and fourteen hundred marks were counted out to him. Again the seven came to him, he had staked four hundred upon it, and so he won back nearly three thousand marks. Little Willberg was astonished; he felt as if he had done a wonderful thing. Even the Uhlan cast upon him a glance of recognition, and when he had paid him his winnings, gave him a hearty "bravo." This praise made Willberg so proud that he immediately staked four hundred marks upon the seven, and lost it. George had looked on at the game for a considerable time without taking any share in it, now he began to tire of it, and thought he would quietly retire. He went through the reading-room, when someone suddenly called him by name, and when he turned round he saw the first lieutenant, von Kirchberg, in an easy chair. "Where are you going?" he asked him. George felt he was caught, for it was not considered the correct thing to go off in this fashion, but he said nevertheless, "I meant to go home." The other looked up astonished. "Have you come to the end of your tether? Have you lost all your money, then?" "I never play, sir."