Appearances are just that. Appearances. Something appears to be the case but on inspection is the opposite. My opponent has millions and I am now the recipient of funds that have drained her and reduced her to mortgaging all her property. Twice she has had to pay four million because of bad luck in the draw of chance cards.
I have built up houses on Fenway and Boardwalk. She has only to hit once and it will be curtains. I consistently pay her when I land on Texas Station. It is a flea bite.
As do most of my opponents, she offers trades. She becomes irate when I shake my head and say I never trade. I do not tell her I am lying. I trade when I have already won in order to shorten the game.I am considering that as we speak.
We shall see.
I wonder if she has the money to pay me. She is well dressed, but you never know. I do not really care. I still have my current winnings on my person. I do not use banks.
Come, come, it is time to end this.
It takes a while but I finally win with about fifty million in cash plus property. She has been down to zero and back up enough to breathe for a whole but finally she simply has nothing left and is out on a $500 fine.
When she makes no motion to pay me I am halted in asking her to oblige by a rather odd looking gentleman dressed to the nines. He is too old to be anything but whatever a sugar daddy is called in these parts. He whispers something and she whispers something and he peels 1000 euros from a substantial roll.
She stands and leaves with a perfunctory yawn and no words whatsoever in response to my soft and amicable bon nuit.
I wonder where next. Monte Carlo. Maybe a vacation. Perhaps some private games. I am strangely relaxed and not at all tired. I suggest we have an early breakfast at Divonne. But the dining room is oddly closed. This is clearly not Vegas.
We return to Cointrin where I sleep like a log and contemplate what next.
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