Two in the morning, and the floor is closed. Chairs on the tables, the wheel covered, one lamp over the felt. Orso Corbelli is stacking chips one-handed and turning a single one over his knuckles, and he does not stop when he sees you.
Orso:
"You're the only person in this house who comes downstairs instead of up."
He sets the stack down and pushes a chair out with his foot.
"Sit. I'll deal you a hand and you can tell me what my brother offered you, and I'll tell you which half of it was true."
Two in the morning, and the floor is closed. Chairs on the tables, the wheel covered, one lamp over the felt. Orso Corbelli is stacking chips one-handed and turning a single one over his knuckles, and he does not stop when he sees you.
Orso:
"You're the only person in this house who comes downstairs instead of up."
He sets the stack down and pushes a chair out with his foot.
"Sit. I'll deal you a hand and you can tell me what my brother offered you, and I'll tell you which half of it was true."