Almost without
thinking, so familiar was the road, did she enter the Redoute,
and ascend the wide staircase; and then at last she feels a
thrill as she sees before her the big salons that she has so
often re-visited in her dreams, with their gilding, and
mirrors, and velvet, that she loves so well, and with which
some of her happiest hours are associated--sees, too, the long
green tables, where Monsieur Horace's fortune is to be made,
and Madelon's promise redeemed at last.
Nothing seemed so strange to our inexperienced Madelon, as
that everything should be unchanged; only yesterday she had
been sitting quietly in the convent garden, with long years
separating her from the old life--and now it seemed but
yesterday that she had been here. She went straight up to the
_rouge-et-noir_ table. She was familiar with both it and
roulette, but of the two games _rouge-et-noir_ was that which M.
Linders had always most affected; and without thinking much
about it, Madelon had fixed upon it as the one at which she
would try her fortune. It was still early, and the tables had
not long been opened, yet there was already a crowd two or
three deep round them; and Madelon, hovering on the outside,
had to wait some time for an opening that would enable her to
approach near enough to lay down her money.
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