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I
hardly knew whether to box the little creature's ears, to box my own,
or to laugh. I compromised with a smile on the last alternative, and
baccarat being a dreary game to watch, I strolled off to the nearest
_ecarte_ table, and, to justify my presence in the room, backed one of
the players.
Presently my attention was called to the baccarat table by a noise as
of some dispute, and turning, I saw the gentleman in the dinner-jacket
hurrying to what appeared to be the storm centre, the place where
Anastasius was sitting. Suspecting some minor peril, I left the _ecarte_
players, and joined the gentleman in the dinner-jacket. It seemed that
the hand, which is played in rotation by those seated at each tableau
or half-table, had come round for the first time to Anastasius, and
objection had been taken to his playing it, on the score of his physical
appearance. The dwarf was protesting vehemently. He had played baccarat
in all the clubs of Europe, and had never received such treatment. It
was infamous, it was insulting.


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