Only the theatre manager still displayed
some boldness. But the game was gradually taking the form of a contest
between Lieutenant Kasda and Consul Schnabel. Willi's luck had
shifted; apart from the thousand he had reserved for his old comrade
Bogner, he had scarcely a hundred gulden left. If these hundred go, I'm
definitely stopping, he swore to himself. But he didn't believe it. What is
this Bogner to me after all? he thought. I owe him nothing!
Fraulein Rihoscheck reappeared humming a melody, fixed her hair
in front of a large mirror, lit a cigarette, took up a billiard cue, tried a few
shots, put the cue back in the corner, and then amused herself by spinning alternately first the white, then the red, balls on the green cloth. A
cold glance from the consul called her back to the table, and, humming
once more, she took her place by his side again, resting her arm over the
back of his chair. A student song, many voices strong, broke into the stillness that had long since settled outside. How are they going to get back
to Vienna today? Willi wondered. Then it occurred to him that they could
be students from the local gymnasium in Baden. Since Fraulein Rihoscheck had sat opposite him again, his luck was slowly returning. The
song became more and more distant, and gradually died out. A bell struck
in a church tower.
"A quarter to one," said Greising.
"This'll be the last round," declared the regiment doctor.
"A last round for everyone," suggested First Lieutenant Wimmer.
The consul indicated his agreement with a nod.
Willi didn't say a word. He won, lost, drank a glass of cognac, won,
lost, lit a new cigarette, won and lost. Tugut's bank held for a long time.
The consul finally relieved him of it with a large bet. Curiously enough, Elrief reappeared after almost an hour's absence, and, still more curiously, he had money again. With an elegant indifference, as though nothing had happened, he sat down again in the manner of that viscount he
would probably never play, and he had even added a new attitude of superior indifference, which he had really copied from Dr. Flegmann: halfclosed, weary eyes. He put down a bank of three hundred gulden, as if
that were the most commonplace thing to do, and won. The consul lost to
him, then to the army doctor, and especially to Willi, who soon found
himself in possession of no less than three thousand gulden. That meant a
new military cape, a new sword belt, new linen, patent leather shoes, cigarettes, dinners for two and even three, rides in the Vienna Woods, two
months' leave of absence with his vacation-and at 2 a.m. he had won
four thousand two hundred gulden. There they lay before him, a concrete
reality that could not be doubted-four thousand two hundred gulden,
more or less. The others had all pulled back and scarcely played anymore.
"That's enough," said Consul Schnabel abruptly.
Willi was of two minds. If they stopped now, nothing more could
happen to him, and that was good. At the same time he felt an uncontrollable, truly fiendish urge to continue playing, to conjure a few more, no,
all of the remaining crisp thousand-gulden bills out of the consul's wallet
into his own. That would be a hoard with which he could make his fortune! It didn't always have to be baccarat-there were also the horse
races at Freudenau and the Trabrennplatz, and there were also fine casinos such as the one at Monte Carlo on the seacoast-with beautiful
women from Paris.... While his thoughts drifted in this direction, the
regiment doctor was trying to rouse the consul to one last round.
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