always fun to be with him here when he had money and he was excited; and he kissed her now on the cheek as he led her towards the roulette wheel.
"You know the rules. You stand on my left, and only on my left. That's always been lucky."
She nodded. Look at all the fine gentlemen in this room; and the women just loaded with jewels. And she with this silly thing around her neck. It made her anxious.
Julie jumped; what was that sound? She found herself vaguely embarrassed as she stood alone in the shadowy library.
There was no one else here, but she could have sworn she heard another person. Not a step, no. Just all the tiny little sounds of another in the room very near to her.
She looked at the mummy slumbering in its case. In the semi-darkness, it looked as if it were coated with a thin layer of ashes. And what a sombre, brooding expression it had. She really hadn't noticed before. It looked for all the world as if it were struggling with a bad dream. She could almost see a crease in the forehead.
Was she glad now that they had not replaced the lid? She wasn't certain. But it was too late. She had sworn not to touch these things herself; and she must get to bed; she was more weary than she'd ever been. Her father's old friends had stayed forever. And then the newspaper people had barged in. What brazen effrontery! The guards had finally forced them out, but not before they had taken a whole series of pictures of the mummy.
And now the clock was striking one. And there was no one here. So why was she trembling? She went quickly to the front door, and was about to throw the bolt when she remembered Henry. He was supposed to be her chaperon and her protector. Strange that he hadn't spoken a civil word to her since he'd come home. And he certainly had not been in his room upstairs. But nevertheless... She left the door unbolted.
It was bitter cold as he stepped out into the deserted street. He slipped on his gloves quickly.
Shouldn't have slapped her, he thought. But she shouldn't have butted in, damn her. He knew what he was doing. He had doubled his money ten times! If only on that last throw! And then as he argued to sign a note, she'd butted in!" But you mustn't!"
Infuriating, the way they'd looked at him. He knew what he owed. He knew what he was doing. And Sharpies there, that scum. As if he were afraid of Sharpies.
It was Sharpies who stepped out of the alleyway now in front of him. For a moment he wasn't entirely certain. It was so dark, with the fog rolling just above the ground, but then in the seam of light from the window above, he saw the man's pockmarked face.
"Get out of my way," he said.
"Another streak of bad luck, sir?" Sharpies fell into step beside him." And the little lady costing you money. She was always expensive, sir, even when she worked for me. And I'm a generous man, you know."
"Let me alone, you bloody fool." He stepped up the pace. The street lamp was out up ahead. And there wouldn't be a cab at this hour.
"Not without a little interest on account, sir." Henry stopped. The Cleopatra coin. Would the imbecile realize what it was worth? Suddenly he felt the man's fingers digging into his arm.
"You dare!" He pulled away. Then slowly he removed the coin from his inside coat pocket, held it out in the dim light and raised his eyebrow as he looked at the man, who gathered it out of his palm immediately.
"Ah, now that's a beauty, sir. A real ar ... kay ... o ... logical beauty!" He turned the coin over, as if the inscriptions actually meant something to him." You pinched it, didn't you, sir? From your uncle's treasure, am I right?"
"Take it or leave it!"
Sharpies made his hand a fist around the coin, like a man doing a magic trick for a child.
"Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, would h, sir?" He slipped the coin into his pocket." Was he still lying there, gasping, sir, when you pinched it? Or did you wait till he'd breathed his last?"
"Go to hell."
"This won't cover it, sir. No, sir, not by a long shot, sir. Not what you owe