"You are a true gambler!" he said very softly. "You care nothing for gain or loss. You play for the play's sake!" And Clodagh, with her mind absorbed and her eyes on the roulette-board, gave a quick, high-pitched, unthinking laugh. CHAPTER XII At nine o'clock on the night following her first venture in the world of gambling, Clodagh was again standing by the roulette-table in Lady Frances Hope's salon. She had been playing for two hours, with luck persistently against her; but no one who had chanced to glance at her eager, excited face would have imagined even for a moment that the collection of coins in her gold purse was dwindling and not increasing. Deerehurst had been correct in his deductions. She played for the play's sake. The losing game--the hazardous game was the one which appealed to, and absorbed, her; the savour of risk stimulated her; the faint sense of danger lifted her to an enchanted realm. And on this night she made an unconsciously picturesque figure as she stood fascinated by the chances of the play--her face flushed, her eyes intensely bright, her fingers restlessly eager to make their stakes. Round about her was gathered a little group of interested and admiring men--Deerehurst, Luard, Serracauld, and a couple of young Americans who had come to Venice with introductions to Lady Frances Hope; but on none of them did she bestow more than a pre-occupied attention. She permitted them to stand beside her; she laughed softly at their compliments and their jests; but her eyes and her thoughts were unmistakably for the painted board over which Barnard was presiding. Another half-dozen rounds of the game were played; then suddenly she turned away from the table with a quick laugh. "The end!" she said to Serracauld, who was standing nearest to her; and with a quick gesture, she held up the gold netted purse, now limp and empty. With an eager movement, he stepped forward. "Let me be useful!" he whispered quickly. "Or me! I represent your husband, you know!" Barnard leant across the roulette-table. "Oh, come, Barny! I spoke first----" But Clodagh looked smilingly from one to the other, and shook her head. "No!--no!" she said hastily. "I--I never borrow money." Serracauld looked obviously disappointed. "Nonsense, Mrs. Milbanke----" he began. But Deerehurst intervened. "If Mrs. Milbanke does not wish it, Valentine----" he murmured soothingly. "Mrs. Milbanke, let me take you out of temptation!" He bowed to Clodagh, and courteously made a passage for her through the crowd that surrounded them. If any cynical remembrance of her first vehement repudiation of the suggestion that she should gamble, rose now to confute her newer denial, no shadow of it was visible in his face.