| Baccarat; A Novel |  | Author: Julia Frankau
Publisher: General Books LLC
Category: Book
Buy New: $15.37
as of 2/9/2012 03:22 CST details
Seller: Amazon.com
Sales Rank: 6,469,458
Media: Paperback
Pages: 120
Number Of Items: 1
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.4
Dimensions (in): 8.8 x 5.9 x 0.6
ISBN: 0217442803
EAN: 9780217442800
ASIN: 0217442803
Publication Date: January 8, 2012
Shipping: Eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping
Availability: Usually ships in 1 to 3 weeks
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Product Description
This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1904. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER V By the time the Baron d'Avril returned to Cabourg, free, as far as Madame la Baronne was concerned, to pursue his good fortune, either with the little Anglaise, as they still persisted in calling her, or at the green cloth, Julie Courtney had become a confirmed gambler. She always vowed she would never play again, if once she recouped herself, if once the money John had given her was safe. She always thought, when she was winning, that it was a pity to leave off when the luck had turned, that now Genie's dot was coming to her, besides all of her patrimony which her father had lost. She was different in no one way from any other incurable with the same disease. Instead of the simple life she had led when she first came to Cabourg; the early cafe with the children, the long morning with them on the sands, bathing as the tide served, helping to build sand castles, chattering to them over her needlework; she rose late, after her fevered nights, came down only in time for the twelve o'clock dejeuner, slept in the early afternoon, and watched the clock impatiently until she could play again. By the time the Baron d'Avril returned to Cabourg, she seemed one with the advertisement agents, and painted ladies, the Barons, the simple Messieurs with red ribbons, and red rosettes, and red and white buttons, whose unanimous idea of a seaside holiday was to sit in an over-crowded, badly-ventilated room, making calculations on little pieces of paper, staking their louis or fivelouis pieces against the irresistible bank. For it was a fact that the bank had become irresistible. It was no wonder that Julie had now no pretty coquetries or smiles for the Baron d'Avril. She had lost all the money she had won, all the money she had brought with her, all the money Jo...
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