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TO BE ACCOUNTED FOR
71

The end of it all had been sudden, shockingly unexpected.

A large sum, gold and paper and I. O. U. s, had been on the green cloth.

One more ace, he thought, studying his hand, and the pot would be his—enough to buy back every acre his mother had been forced to sell, enough to give back his sister s dowry, enough to give a decent life competence for the little brother who was studying for the diplomatic service, enough to release him from a loveless marriage.

Just the one pot, the one big gain—and he would never again touch cards.

Just the ace. That was all he needed.

And it was there in full view, in front of him. His right-hand neighbor had dropped out of the game, and had thrown down his cards upside down.

He had turned the trick very clumsily. There was a shout, a roar, a sharp-cutting word.

"You cheat, monsieur! You cheat!

That had been the end of it all. Of course, there had been no court-martial. Nothing of that sort ever happened in the Forty-Third Infantry. That regiment never preferred charges against