“It is a casino.”

“Oh?” I replied. “That is where they gamble.”

“Shall we take a look inside?”

“May we?”

“Of course.”

It was quite fun at the time. I should have remembered the warnings.

There were a great number of people there. We walked round. They were playing games I did not understand.

I stood for a moment with Gervaise watching the wheel spinning round on the big table. I noticed the strained eager faces and how those people kept their eyes on the numbers all the time.

Then the wheel stopped and the croupier’s stick pulled in the chips.

It was all a mystery to me but I was aware of Gervaise’s growing excitement.

“Shall we go?” I said.

“Just a moment. I’d like to try my luck. Sit down. I won’t be long.”

He left me there. I waited. What a long time it seemed! I watched the people. They talked excitedly. Some were elated. Some melancholy. There was an atmosphere here which I had never been aware of anywhere else. It was a sort of feverish excitement.

I hoped Gervaise would not be long.

It seemed to me that I waited a very long time; when he came to me he was flushed; his eyes were brilliant; he was elated.

“I’ve won,” he cried. “My luck was in.”

He showed me a handful of money.

“At first it went wrong,” he said. “I lost three times running. I was almost cleaned out … then it started to change. I’d have gone on and on making us millionaires if I hadn’t thought of you sitting here … waiting. So I came away.”

“I’m glad you did. It seemed so long.”

“I was afraid it would. You don’t notice the time when you are at the tables, you know.”

“No, I suppose not. Shall we go now?”

It seemed to me that he left reluctantly; but as soon as we were out in the fresh air his spirits revived.

“I’ll tell you what I am going to do,” he said. “I am going to buy a present for someone.”

“For whom?”

“For Mrs. Gervaise Mandeville, of course.”

“Oh no. Let’s keep the money.”

“Money is not for keeping.”

“Isn’t it? I had always thought it was.”

“That is where you have to learn. It’s for giving presents … making people happy.”

“I’m just as happy without a present.”

“You’re going to get one all the same and I know what.”

“What?”

“I noticed your eyes on that dress in the window of a shop we passed this morning. That glorious blue velvet creation.”

“Oh … that. Yes, it’s lovely. It must be very costly.”

“Well, you have a rich husband now.”

“Gervaise, buy something for yourself if you must spend it.”

“Certainly not. I’m going to buy something for you. Come on.”

He led me back to the shop. It was true I had admired the dress. I had rarely seen one so elegant and beautiful.

“There is something about it,” he said. “Is there not?”

“It’s certainly very fine, but I daresay it will cost a great deal.”

“We’ll go and see.”

Reluctantly I was led into the shop. A tall thin woman in black came out to us. She reminded me of something between a spider and Madame Bougerie.

The dress? Oh, yes. It was indeed a special dress. She gesticulated wildly. And for Madame. Yes, yes. It was Madame’s size. One could say that it had been made for Madame.

I was scurried into a cubicle and there I was divested of my dress and stood before the mirror in the glorious creation. I had to admit it was beautiful and it suited me.

It fitted comme les gaunts. It was Madame’s dress. No one else must have it. It must be Madame’s.

The price appalled me, but Gervaise took it lightheartedly. I know that it swallowed up all his winnings.

This was what he wanted.

The dress was packed up and Gervaise carried it proudly from the shop.

I said: “It is a great extravagance and you shouldn’t have spent all that money.”

“But it had to be Madame’s. It was made for Madame. It fits like a glove. There was no question about it. And you look quite superb in it. I am sure had you been present, Aphrodite would never have got her golden apple.”

“I still think of it as an extravagance.”

“Nonsense. I wanted to buy it. What is the good of having a wife if I can’t spend my winnings on her?”

So we walked home and that night I wore the dress. I loved it. It was beautiful—and very precious because Gervaise had given it to me.

Later I wished we had never seen the casino. But of course Gervaise knew it was there. He had been there before. It may well have been why he had chosen this place for our honeymoon.

I enjoyed the days when we walked or rode in the mountains; but I did sense in him a yearning to be in the town; when we visited it he would lead me to the casino and he would go in leaving me sitting there waiting for him. I could have gone with him, I suppose. I could have had my own little flutter; but I had no wish to. I always had the feeling that I should lose—and that would be two of us.

There were one or two occasions when he won but never as much as when he had bought the dress.

I remembered the family warning and what his mother had said. I was to be the steadying influence.

It was like a blight on our honeymoon. If only it could have gone on as it had begun. I had been so superbly happy in the beginning after my confession … happy as I had never thought to be again after that encounter at the pool. And Gervaise had made it possible. I would never forget that.

And then the visit to the casino! Every time I looked at the dress, I remembered—that feverish excitement, that desire to gamble. I, who did not have the slightest inclination to do so, found it difficult to understand the urge which seemed to come over Gervaise. He was like a different person when it was with him. Usually he was so relaxed, so carefree. This was an obsession.

We had spent two weeks at the auberge and were going home in three days’ time. We were some little distance from the railway station and there was an old carriage drawn by two rather aged horses which made short journeys when it was necessary and would take guests’ luggage to and from the station.

Two days before we were to leave, the carriage had to go to the station and Madame Bougerie said it would be convenient if our bags could be taken to the station then to save a journey.

I was rather sad, packing.

“Put everything you can in,” said Gervaise, “so that there is nothing we have to carry. Then we can walk down to the station when the time comes.”

I wondered afterwards what would have happened if the luggage had not been sent on in advance. He would not then have been able to do what he did.

That evening Gervaise went down to the town alone. I was rather tired. We had walked several miles during the afternoon and the casino did not attract me. I did not wish to partake in the gambling; nor did I wish to wait while Gervaise did. I found the place rather depressing in spite of the bright lights and the splendidly clad women. I detected in the faces of so many that frenzied look which I had seen in Gervaise.

He was very late back that night. I was relieved to see him. I had visions of his coming out from the casino with his winnings and being waylaid and set upon and robbed.

When I told him this he laughed.

“No one would have wanted to set upon me after the luck I have had tonight.”

“It seems to me that you hardly ever have any luck.”

“What? Think of that beautiful dress.”

“That was the only time—and you spent all that.”

“One day you will be surprised.”

I thought that he was a little less ready to laugh than usual. I did not know how bad it was until later.

The next morning we went down to the town. I was afraid he was going once more to the casino, but he did not.

“I think,” he said, “we should go and see if the luggage is all right.”

I was relieved. It seemed a good idea.

Even now I am not sure how it happened or why I allowed it to. He had brought the luggage out. The train was in the station. It was the train we should take to Paris.

A porter had seized our bags.

I cried: “He thinks we are going on the train.”

Gervaise did not answer. He allowed the porter to go and followed him, taking me with him.

“Explain to him,” I shouted.

“It’s all right,” said Gervaise. The porter put the bags on the train. Gervaise gave him some money.

I said: “What are you doing, Gervaise? How …?”

He turned to me and smiled and pushed me down into a seat.

“If you are not careful …” I began, “the train will go. … What game is this?”

“Wait and see,” he said.

The train had started to move and I cried out in alarm.

“It had to be,” said Gervaise. “It’s the only way. I was absolutely cleaned out.”

“What of Madame Bougerie’s bill?”

“I’ll send her the money.”

“But you didn’t explain.”

“How could I? She’d never understand. I’ll write.”

“What will she think?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” he said. “It was the only way. I paid last week. It is only one week owing. It was lucky about the luggage. That’s what gave me the idea last night. It is better to do it this way. There would have been a terrible fuss. Goodness knows what would have happened. I could never have got it over to her. You know she thinks she understands English.”

I sat back in my seat staring at him in horror.

“Thank goodness we had our return tickets,” he said. “You see, it all worked out.”

“Gervaise,” I said. “How could you? It is cheating, it is stealing …”

“No,” he said. “She’ll get the money. I’ll see that she gets it.” I sat down helplessly. I felt covered in shame.

No one is perfect. I must never forget his loving tenderness. I would always remember the first night of our marriage when he had miraculously lifted me out of my terror, when he had freed me from that haunting specter. Never, never must I forget that. And this … it was something they had warned me of. It was why my father had made some complicated arrangement about the settlement. I must do something. I could not allow us to cheat. I thought of the horror there would be in Madame Bougerie’s face when she realized her guests had left … without paying. How could he have done it … and in such a lighthearted way!

He might send the money in time. He would probably send more than he owed to make up for what he had done. But that was not the point. The money must be sent without delay.

I must do something.

The thought preoccupied me all the way home. Gone was the magic of the outward journey. Gervaise realized and was contrite.

“If I had known how much it was going to upset you,” he said, “I would have thought of something else.”

“There wasn’t anything else. You had gambled with the money which was really Madame Bougerie’s. It’s dishonest, Gervaise.”

“Not if I pay it back. I’ll send her extra for the trouble.”

We were staying at the Mandeville town house until we had a home of our own. There was no one to greet us because we had come earlier than had been expected. I was glad of this. I did not want to have to give explanations.

I would not rest until I had sent the money to Madame Bougerie.

I did know that the money my father had settled on me was to be kept in my name and that the capital could not be touched without the agreement of my parents. I was to get an income which would be paid to me. This had been agreed between my family and the Mandevilles. The income would not be large and I had not yet received the first installment. I needed money quickly and I knew approximately how much and it must be a little more because of the trouble we had caused. I wrote and asked my father for it.

It came almost at once. He guessed that I had had expenses on my honeymoon. I was relieved. I went to the bank and discovered I could change English money into French; and it was mailed off immediately to the auberge. I wrote a note apologizing for the trouble we had caused, explaining rather vaguely that we had had to return to England without delay, and if we had not caught that train we should have lost a day, so we had had to take it. I humbly begged Madame’s pardon for what must have seemed inexcusable behavior.

When the money had gone off I told Gervaise what I had done.

He looked at me sadly: “I’m sorry, Angelet,” he said. “You see the sort of a man you have married. Do you despise me?”