"Now look here, Captain. Doesn't the Star Line always try to please its
passengers? Well, I'm a passenger. Or is it just your native caution
that makes you afraid of losing?" His laugh did not entirely disguise
the irritation in his voice.
"All right, anything to oblige," said Evans wearily, pulling up a chair.
"What stakes are you playing for?"
The Captain lost, slowly and steadily. Mechanically he went through the
motions of dealing, discarding, drawing, and betting, but it was obvious
that his mind was not on the game. Jasperson rarely lost a hand, if he
had stayed at all, while Professor Larrabee's luck was unpredictable,
the pile of chips before him fluctuating, growing or diminishing with
startling swiftness.
They were interrupted once when a waiter came in with a tray of bottles
and glasses. The Captain refused.
"But one drink won't do you any harm," said Jasperson.
"I never drink in space. For one thing, the rules of the Star Line
explicitly forbid it, as you should know."
"Yes, I helped make that rule. That means I can release you from it."
But Evans was firm. "I never drink in space," he repeated. "I'll take
two cards--no, make it three."
The professor surveyed his hand with his customary sprightly air.
"I'll play these," he said.