And this self-indulgence proved in the end the ruin of his fine scheme of establishing himself in life on a sound monetary basis.
Tinker was about to get into bed one evening, and found himself slow about it.

His conscience was worrying him about some duty left undone, and he could not remember what the duty was.

Of a sudden his terrible omission flashed into his mind: in his patient application to the task of shadowing and annoying Mr.Arthur Courtnay he had forgotten his daily bolt into the gambling rooms.

Reluctant, but firm, he slipped on his pumps and went downstairs.

Four minutes later the feverish gamblers in the Salles de Jeu were gratified by the sight of a seraph-like child in blue silk pyjamas who flew gaily round the tables pursued by two stout and joyfully excited Southern Europeans in livery.
The pursuit was lively, but short, for Tinker ran into the arms of a wily croupier who had slipped from his seat, and unexpectedly joined the chase.