The entire room burst into a roar of excited babble. Parkington stared, his mouth slack. Nick stood and nodded to the comte, who obediently came forward to collect his winnings. Henri glanced at Parkington and smiled gently. It happens, Monsieur.
Luck is a fickle creature.
She loves many, but is faithful to none. The baron shook his head as if to clear it of a nightmare. Bridgeton, you bastard. The comte paused in collecting the scattered bills. Gaillard looked up, his black eyes widening as everyone within hearing distance froze in place.