every wednesday baroness von doring received her intimate friends. she did not care for rivals, and therefore ladies were not invited to these evenings. the intimate circle of the baroness consisted of our knights of industry and the "pigeons" of the bureaucracy, the world of finance, the aristocracy, which were the objects of the knights' desires. it often happened, however, that the number of guests at these intimate evenings went as high as fifty, and sometimes even more.
the baroness was passionately fond of games of chance, and always sat down to the card table with enthusiasm. but as this was done conspicuously, in sight of all her guests, the latter could not fail to note that fortune obstinately turned away from the baroness. she almost never won on the green cloth; sometimes kovroff won, sometimes kallash, sometimes karozitch, but with the slight difference that the last won more seldom and less than the other two.
thus every wednesday a considerable sum found its way from the pocketbook of the baroness into that of one of her colleagues, to find its way back again the next morning. the purpose of this clever scheme was that the "pigeons" who visited the luxurious salons of the baroness, and whose money paid the expenses of these salons, should not have the smallest grounds for suspicion that the dear baroness's apartment was nothing but a den of sharpers. her guests all considered her charming, to begin with, and also rich and independent and passionate by nature. this explained her love of play and the excitement it brought, and which she would not give up, in spite of her repeated heavy losses.
her colleagues, the knights of industry, acted on a carefully devised and rigidly followed plan. they were far from putting their uncanny skill in motion every wednesday. so long as they had no big game in sight, the game remained clean and honest. in this way the band might lose two or three thousand rubles, but such a loss had no great importance, and was soon made up when some fat "pigeon" appeared.
it sometimes happened that this wily scheme of honest play went on for five or six weeks in succession, so that the small fry, winning the band's money, remained entirely convinced that it was playing in an honorable and respectable private house, and very naturally spread abroad the fame of it throughout the whole city. but when the fat pigeon at last appeared, the band put forth all its forces, all the wiles of the black art, and in a few hours made up for the generous losses of a month of honorable and irreproachable play on the green cloth.
midnight was approaching.
the baroness's rooms were brilliantly lit up, but, thanks to the thick curtains which covered the windows, the lights could not be seen from the street, though several carriages were drawn up along the sidewalk.
opening into the elegant drawing-room was a not less elegant card room, appreciatively nicknamed the inferno by the band. in it stood a large table with a green cloth, on which lay a heap of bank notes and two little piles of gold, before which sat sergei antonovitch kovroff, presiding over the bank with the composure of a true gentleman.
what homeric, jovine calm rested on every feature of his face! what charming, fearless self-assurance, what noble self-confidence in his smile, in his glance! what grace, what distinction in his pose, and especially in the hand which dealt the cards! sergei kovroff's hands were decidedly worthy of attention. they were almost always clad in new gloves, which he only took off on special occasions, at dinner, or when he had some writing to do, or when he sat down to a game of cards. as a result, his hands were almost feminine in their delicacy, the sensibility of the finger tips had reached an extraordinary degree of development, equal to that of one born blind. and those fingers were skillful, adroit, alert, their every movement carried out with that smooth, indefinable grace which is almost always possessed by the really high-class card sharper. his fingers were adorned with numerous rings, in which sparkled diamonds and other precious stones. and it was not for nothing that sergei kovroff took pride in them! this glitter of diamonds, scattering rainbow rays, dazzled the eyes of his fellow players. when sergei kovroff sat down to preside over the bank, the sparkling of the diamonds admirably masked those motions of his fingers which needed to be masked; they almost insensibly drew away the eyes of the players from his fingers, and this was most of all what sergei kovroff desired.
round the table about thirty guests were gathered. some of them sat, but most of them played standing, with anxious faces, feverishly sparkling eyes, and breathing heavily and unevenly. some were pale, some flushed, and all watched with passionate eagerness the fall of the cards. there were also some who had perfect command of themselves, distinguished by extraordinary coolness, and jesting lightly whether they lost or won. but such happily constituted natures are always a minority when high play is going on.
silence reigned in the inferno. there was almost no conversation; only once in a while was heard a remark, in a whisper or an undertone, addressed by a player to his neighbor; the only sound was that short, dry rustle of the cards and the crackling of new bank notes, or the tinkle of gold coins making their way round the table from the bank to the players, and from the players back to the bank.
the two princes shadursky, father and son, both lost heavily. they sat opposite sergei kovroff, and between them sat baroness von doring, who played in alliance with them. the clever natasha egged them on, kindling their excitement with all the skill and calculation possible to one whose blood was as cold as the blood of a fish, and both the shadurskys had lost their heads, no longer knowing how much they were losing.
