The Drop of the Dice

SEEN THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

DAMARIS DID RECOVER, BUT not completely so. She was very weak but we were all overjoyed when she showed signs of improvement.

Jeremy was still cool with Sabrina and I knew that there was something smouldering in the child.

I was able to talk with Damaris, which was a relief.

‘Poor Sabrina,’ I said, ‘she feels this deeply. I know you will understand how this has affected her. She knows it was her fault… all the trouble, your illness, the worry everyone has had. Dear Aunt Damaris, I know you will understand.’

She did, of course, and she thanked me, with tears in her eyes, for what I had done for Sabrina. I said I had done nothing. She was the one who had done everything. Giving Sabrina life… and then saving it.

‘She is my baby, of course, as you were once, Clarissa.’

‘I know. But I am able to take care of myself now. Sabrina isn’t. You will know how to make her happy again.’

I used to take Sabrina with me when I went to see her mother. At first she did not want to come and regarded Damaris with something like revulsion, which was due to the fact that she was responsible for her being in bed. But after a while Damaris’s gentle nature and her love prevailed. The barrier was broken. Sabrina would sit on the bed and I would tell stories and play games such as ‘I spy with my little eye’ which meant that the others had to guess the object I was looking at and the one who guessed took the turn of selecting the next; and very soon we had Sabrina rolling about the bed in fits of laughter. This mood did not always last, but it was good to see the old Sabrina coming out now and then; and I knew that Damaris understood perfectly.

I then decided that I could leave and that I ought to go back to my home. I explained to Damaris, who understood at once and, I knew, made a great effort to appear better than she was.

‘You must not leave Lance any longer,’ she said. She turned and took my hand. ‘Oh, Clarissa, you have brought such happiness into my life… always.’

‘As you have done in mine,’ I answered. ‘I often wonder what would have happened to me if you had left me in France.’

‘Don’t think of that. Clarissa, I believe you understand Sabrina better than anyone. I think she loves you dearly.’

‘She is a delightful child… and very attractive.’

‘Yes, that is why I am afraid for her. Your mother was like that. She had that tremendous appeal. It turns up now and then in the family. I am not sure that it is an asset. Sometimes I think it is a liability. I worry about Sabrina, Clarissa.’

‘She will be able to take care of herself.’

‘She has been so strange lately…’

‘It is because she blames herself for what happened and Jeremy blames her too.’

‘I have spoken to Jeremy about her. He worries so much about me.’

‘Dear Aunt Damaris, you must get well. You are Jeremy’s life and Sabrina needs you. You are so much… wanted.’ She was emotional for a moment and then she said: ‘Clarissa, will you promise me something? You did once before, but I want to make sure.’

‘Of course I will. It’s Sabrina, isn’t it?’ She nodded. ‘Just suppose I didn’t get well.’

‘Please don’t think like that, even for a moment.’

‘I’m trying, Clarissa, but I want to be sure. Just suppose something should happen to me. Suppose I should die. Promise me you will look after Sabrina.’

‘Her place would be here. This is her home.’

‘Jeremy is a man who has suffered much. I cannot bear to think what he would do… if I were to die.’

‘I understand,’ I said.

‘Promise me then that you will look after Sabrina. She loves you dearly… in fact I think she loves you better than anyone else. Look after her… for me, Clarissa.’

I took her hand and kissed it. I was afraid if I looked at her I should weep.

‘I promise,’ I said.

A few days later, after listening to loud protests and reproaches from Sabrina, I left for London.

Back in London, life slipped back into the old pattern. We entertained a good deal now. Lance was elated. He had had a run of luck at the tables and with the horses. He was a devoted husband and a passionate lover and made me feel in a hundred ways how delighted he was to have me back. I felt happy. Damaris was improving; she would comfort Sabrina and without me there the two of them would grow closer. And this was where I belonged—with my husband.

Aimée was settling into the household as though it were indeed her home. I was glad, though I knew that Jeanne remained suspicious. Aimée told me about the hospitality she—with Lance—had received during my absence and that now and then she had acted as hostess for Lance. They had had a most exciting time.

‘Gambling?’ I asked.

Lance burst out laughing.

‘Now, don’t scold, Clarissa,’ he said. ‘I had some very good nights. You didn’t do too badly, either, Aimée, did you?’

They laughed together. A tinge of suspicion came into my mind then but I dismissed it. It would never have come to me but for Jeanne’s sly innuendoes.

Jean-Louis was now running all over the nursery and desperately trying to talk. Nanny Goswell said he was a bright child; he was certainly a handsome one.

‘Little pickle,’ said Nanny Goswell fondly. ‘All he wants is for someone to show him he’s not the only pebble on the beach.’

I sighed. No one could long more for children in the nursery than I.

We spent the summer between the country and London, and a feature of our lives was, of course, the gambling sessions through which, Lance assured me, he was fast recouping his losses in the South Sea Company.

I was not so sure of this, for I guessed I heard only of the winnings. The losses were probably just as great.

I often felt during those days how happy I could have been but for Lance’s obsession with gambling. It was only when the fever was on him that he seemed unaware of me. It was like a demon that possessed him. He could never resist the desire. I had seen him wager on two raindrops falling down a window-pane… five… or even twenty pounds… all on the spur of the moment. I could not understand him. I should have thought the lesson of the South Sea fiasco would have changed him. It was not so.

I was more than a little anxious about his financial position, for I fancied he was in debt. Once I found a demand from his tailor for a long overdue bill, and when I remonstrated with him he replied: ‘But, my darling, no man ever pays his tailor’s bills for at least five years.’

‘Then they should. What if the poor man needs the money?’

‘This man is far from poor. He serves the Court. He must be worth a fortune… in debts.’

‘That’s not much use if he is never paid.’

‘In time… in time…’

‘Well, if you have been winning, surely this must be the time.’

‘Logic, my dear. Absolute logic. Leave it to me.’

Casual, charming, unruffled, gallant, and a hopeless gambler. He was a man who would smile in the face of ruin. I was so different. Perhaps he should never have chosen to marry me.

As for Aimée, she was like he was. I saw the excitement beginning to grip her. She could scarcely wait to get to the tables. I wondered if Lance was still financing her efforts. I often saw Jeanne watching her, shaking her head ominously.

‘Aimée has the luck of the angels,’ said Lance. ‘I’ve seen few to rival her.’

So I presumed Aimée at least was doing well.

Then I understood. It was quite by accident that I found out. After we had had a dinner party the guests settled down to the card tables and I invariably went to bed. Lance had tried, with no success, to persuade me to stay; but he had not been really pressing, and perhaps he thought one gambler in the family was enough.

It was early autumn, I remember. We had had a successful dinner and conversation flowed freely. I had sat at one end of the table and Lance at the other; he was a graceful, witty host, but these people were all players, all eager to get to the business for which they had come, and that was to win money from each other. I knew most of them very well, for Lance often went to their houses to play and they came to us often. Sometimes I accompanied him, but I dreaded the evenings, which were usually spent in rather dreary conversation with those members of the party who, like myself, did not gamble, waiting for the play to end, which it generally did not until the early hours of the morning. I often made excuses not to attend. Lance was tolerant enough to understand, and sometimes aided me in avoiding them. All the same, nothing could prevent his going.

Aimée was often invited. She was popular with this set. ‘A regular little sport,’ I had heard them say of her. ‘Not afraid to take a risk.’ No, I thought, of course she was not if Lance was supplying her with the means to do so and she only paid back when she won.

But perhaps he no longer did this, since she was notoriously lucky. I did not care to ask either him or her.

On this night she was wearing a charming gown which she had made herself. It had not cost a great deal. I had been with her when she had bought the material in Leadenhall Street. It was a light shade of red—at least the skirt was; the petticoat was cream-coloured and she herself had embroidered it in red silk the colour of her dress. It looked enchanting, flowing away from the tiny waist and cut down the front to show the embroidered petticoat.

I saw them all to the tables. There were three tables and four people at each. Aimée was next to the rather ageing baron who had sat beside her at dinner and seemed rather taken with her. At their table were another couple of middle age. Lance’s friends were of all ages. The only thing they all had in common was a love of gambling.

Lance put his arm about me and kissed me lightly on the back of my neck.

‘Slip away if you wish, my dear,’ he said.

I nodded. I intended to.

I waited a while and watched the play start, fascinated by the intent look on their faces, Aimée’s no less than the others. I felt a little uneasy about her. I thought, Lance has made a gambler of her. And I felt somewhat responsible.

In this room was a marble fireplace with a large mirror above it and on the mantelpiece a bowl of chrysanthemums I myself had arranged them that morning. Someone must have brushed against them when passing, for one of them was almost falling out of the bowl. I started to adjust it while I listened to them calling their stakes. I shuddered. It was all so depressing to me for many of them would come out of that room much poorer than they went in.

I was looking straight at Aimée through the glass. I could not believe that I saw correctly. Her hand moved inside the opening in her skirt to her petticoat. There had been no card in her hand when she put it in and she was holding one when she drew it out. I saw her slip the card among those she was holding in her other hand.

I felt faintly sick. It was hot in the room. Or was that my imagination? I wanted to get out, but I stood there, fixed to the spot, staring at Aimée through the looking glass.

She was smiling and they were all congratulating her. She had won again.

I had to get away. I called good night to them and went to the bedroom. I sat down and stared at my reflection in the glass.

I must have been mistaken. Of course I had not been. I had seen it all so clearly. I kept going over it… that vital moment when she had brought the card out from her petticoat, the smile on her face, her leaning forward and putting her elbow on the table, holding the cards fan-shaped before her.

She had great good luck. Of course she did. She made her luck by cheating at cards.

It was impossible! But it wasn’t, of course. Cheating was the greatest sin among gamblers. What did they do about people who cheated? They were banished from clubs. No one would play with them. Duels had been fought between accusers and accused.

What could I do? One thing was certain. I could not allow Aimée to go on cheating in my house. Should I tell Lance? He would be horrified. That would be one of the things which could really move him. And where would she go if she were asked to leave? What would happen to Jean-Louis?

I was very upset and uncertain.

I undressed and went to bed. I lay sleepless listening for the sounds of departure, for Lance’s step on the stairs. I had not yet made up my mind what I should do.

I waited all next day and in the afternoon when the house was quiet, I went along to Aimée’s room, for I knew she would be there.

She gave me a warm smile when I entered.

I said quietly: ‘I have come to talk to you.’

‘That’s nice,’ she said.

I shook my head. ‘You do very well at the card table,’ I said.

‘Not so bad for a beginner.’

‘You must have won a considerable sum.’

‘Oh, a little. Enough to pay my debts to Lance and to give me a chance to recoup my losses over the Bubble.’

‘Naturally your methods are successful.’

She looked puzzled.

‘I saw you cheating last night,’ I said.

All the colour drained from her face. She stood up and stared at me, her eyes blazing.

‘What are you talking about! You weren’t there.’

‘I was… for a while; I saw you through the mirror.’

‘You were dreaming.’

‘No. I was wide awake. I saw distinctly. You had a winning card in the pocket of your petticoat. I saw you take it out after the cards were dealt.’

‘It is not true.’

‘I tell you I saw you do it.’

‘Through the looking glass! That’s quite impossible. What are you trying to say?’

‘Only that I saw you cheat at cards.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘It is not nonsense and you know it. Lance would never allow it.’

‘Have you made this monstrous accusation against me to him?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Not yet! You mean you are going to?’

I hesitated and when I saw the hope spring up in her eyes I knew without a doubt that she was guilty.

‘I am not sure what I shall do,’ I said. ‘Oh Aimée, how could you do such a thing!’

‘There is only your word against mine.’

‘Do you think Lance would believe you rather than his wife?’

‘No… he’d believe you and then…’ She stared blankly ahead.

‘Why did you do it?’

‘I didn’t. I didn’t.’

‘Please don’t lie to me. I saw you. I saw it all. I was terribly upset.’

Her face crumpled suddenly and she began to cry. That touched me terribly. I always thought her rather hard and well able to take care of herself. To see her so abjectly miserable made me sorry for her.

‘Aimée,’ I went on, ‘why… why?’

She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I suppose I shall have to go now,’ she said. ‘You’ll tell Lance and he will send me away. He would never have anyone here who cheated at cards. I wasn’t going to make a habit of it… only until I had things straight. You’ve no idea what it’s like living on charity. I want to work… to do something for myself and Jean-Louis. I want our independence. I want…’

‘That wasn’t the way to do it.’

‘I know. But I saw how it could be done… and then I did it. I’m saving, Clarissa, saving for myself and Jean-Louis.’

‘It’s taking money which doesn’t belong to you.’

‘They are all rich. They can afford it.’

‘That’s no reason why you should do it.’

‘I know it’s wrong. I’m weak, I accept that. I deserve everything that’s coming to me. You’d better tell Lance at once and I’ll start making plans… though where I’ll go, I have no idea.’

I watched her. There was no mistaking the despair in her face. I could see her gloating over her winnings, calling them her means to her independence. She turned her pleading eyes to me.

‘It has been wonderful here. You have been so kind… you and Lance. But I see I must go now. You’re going to tell Lance, aren’t you?’

‘He will never allow you to play again,’ I said.

‘I know. And he’ll find some excuse to send me away.’

‘Aimée,’ I said slowly, ‘if I promise not to tell him will you promise me never to cheat again?’

She had taken my hands and gripped them hard.

‘Oh, I will, I will,’ she cried.

I came out of her room feeling emotionally exhausted. It seemed to me that I had emerged from the situation in the only way possible.

Aimée’s luck at the tables had changed drastically.

‘It is like that,’ said Lance. ‘You have a fantastic run of luck and then suddenly… it’s all over. It’ll come back.’

‘I don’t think it ever will,’ said Aimée sadly.

I was satisfied. She was no longer cheating.

I thought about her a great deal. I made excuses for her; she had come over from France on the chance of finding her father’s people and a new life; hers had been a precarious existence, and she had found great comfort in security. I suspected that she had married for it—she had more or less said so—and then it had been lost with the bursting of the Bubble and the death of her husband.

She still attended the gambling sessions, though with less zeal than before. Sometimes she was flushed with success, at others despondent. I told her it was a mistake to join in but I could see that she had caught some of that fever which obsessed Lance.

It was too late now for her to draw away.