And there, above the green table, watching the ball fall on red and even and black and zero, he made the terrible discovery: until then he had never lived in his life except for some very few moments, one morning when he had galloped against a curtain of rocks, a moment when Nicole's hair had touched his bare shoulder, and all the other, very important, serious, and responsible things were nothing but a lie, in front of this terrible whirlwind, where his soul descended filled with pleasure following the turns of the ball.

That night he played like someone hypnotized, losing and winning enormous amounts without changing his expression, until, at one moment, he felt the tips of his fingers and the top of his back tingle, and he realized that Bertha was looking at him.