The Gambler - Fyodor Dostoyevsky - Bog

Then she made a movement to rise. Her tone had sounded very angry. Indeed, of late her talks with me had invariably ended on a note of temper and irritation--yes, of real temper. "May I ask you who is this Mlle. Blanche?" I inquired (since I did not wish Polina to depart without an explanation). "You KNOW who she is--just Mlle. Blanche. Nothing further has transpired. Probably she will soon be Madame General--that is to say, if the rumours that Grandmamma is nearing her end should prove true. Mlle. Blanche, with her mother and her cousin, the Marquis, know very well that, as things now stand, we are ruined." "And is the General at last in love?" "That has nothing to do with it. Listen to me. Take these 700 florins, and go and play roulette with them. Win as much for me as you can, for I am badly in need of money.