"Do you not see how the wind blows ?" "What do you mean ?" "Have you count the cost of victory?
You may lose more than you will gain." Percival looked at her intently for a moment; then, in a flash, the meaning of her words was revealed to him.
"Even so, Madame Obosky," he returned, his jaw setting, "I am a good loser." "The spoils do not always go to the victor," she warned him.
"I still have your luck-piece," said he, smiling as he slapped his trousers-leg.
"It has always brought me luck," she said, looking straight into his eyes.

"It may continue to do so, who knows?
Alas for you, my friend, you may yet have to turn to me for consolation.

It is the ill-wind that blows nobody good.

Am I not shocking, Mr.Percivail ?" They had lost Madame Careni-Amori, who was behind them, shrieking a command through a port-hole to her maid.
He looked at her in amazement.

"I don't know what to think of you, Madame Obosky." Then he grinned.