"How's your uncle doing?" Douglas Myer asked once Simon came up to the table. "We've missed him around here. He's not sick, is he?" No he's fine, Mr. ...yer," Simon replied. "He's just been a little busy lately, that's all. He should be back soon." I figured he was just tired of losing," another man Simon didn't know said. "I miss his money."Simon smiled, glancing at the table at the piles of change in front of each player. If his uncle were the worse poker player possible, and having been in the. " Gwen blushed and wiped her hands on her apron. "I mean... I have some beer or gin if you'd like a drink." Well... sure, how about a Collins?" Bob asked, smiling at her. "Sybil?" he asked, addressing his wife."Fine. But don't go to any trouble." No trouble. No trouble at all," Gwen called over her shoulder as she scurried to the kitchen to make the drinks."Prime," Bob whispered to his wife. Sybil smiled, a haughty, nonchalant air about her as she tapped a cigarette on her gold case and waited. More

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