You see us as no more than common 'Spielers'

"Why, Wicks. You see us as no more than common 'Spielers'? Para?sites upon the Fortunes of those willing to Risk all? Pray you, setting aside whose Hearth you are ever welcome at, tell me all."
"What alarms me most, Wade," proceeds Revd Cherrycoke, "is the possibility of acquiring such vast sums so quickly. If a sailor may kill a Bully over a sixpence, then what disproportionate mischief, including Global War, may not attend the safekeeping of Fortunes of millions of pounds Sterling?"
"You're asking the wrong Merchant. I'm lucky if I clear'd a Thousand, this Year."
"Happen they all reach a point where they can't trust their Luck any more...? So they cheat.”
"Bold as you please." Later, in their Rooms, too late the Gamer's Remorse, Mason working himself up, "He mark'd the cards. The Dice were of cunningly lacquer'd Iron, the playing-surface magnetickally fid-dl'd,— Damme, he owes us twenty pounds,— more! what are we sup-pos'd to do, live upon Roots? 'twas the Royal Society's, belay that,replica gucci handbags, the King's own money,— hey? right out of G,fake montblanc pens. Rex's Purse it came, and don't it make a true Englishman boil!" Tis an Insult to Mason that cannot pass unanswer'd,— this runny-nos'd, titl'd Savage, tossing their Expedi?tionary Funds as airy Gratuities to the Slaves who stood all night with Coals kept ever a-glow, and with Bellows clear'd the immediate Air of smoke, that a player might see what Cards he held.
Insupportable,link. "We must take something worth twenty pounds, then...? Let the Rascal pursue huz...?" Dixon adjusts the Angle of his Hat,nike shox torch ii. "Let's have a look. Here upon the wall, this Etching,— what's it suppos'd to be? Turkish Scene or something— Wait,— Mason, it's people fucking...? Eeh! And look at thah'...?...Well,— we can't sell that in Philadelphia. What's this? Chamber-pot? Perhaps not. How about the Bed?"
"Might as well be taking that Tub over there," indicating a giant Bathing-tub with Feet, Bear Feet in fact, cast at the Lepton Foundry from local Iron.
"Why aye, that's it! The Tub!"
"Dixon, it's half a Ton if it's a Dram, we're not going to move it...? Even if we could, where would we move it to? And once there,—
Dixon, a-mumble, is over examining the Tub. "Laws of Lever?age... William Emerson taught things no one else in England knows. Secret techniques of mechanickal Art, rescued from the Library at Alexandria, circa 390 A.D., before rampaging Christians could quite destroy it all, jealously guarded thereafter, solemnly handed down the Centuries from Master to Pupil."
Mason's squint appears. "You shouldn't be showing these 'Secrets' to me, then, should you? No more than that Watch."
"Oh, thou would have to swear the somewhat ominous 'Oath of Silence,' of course, but we can do thah' later,— here, look thee." Dixon seems scarcely to touch the pond'rous Fixture,— yet suddenly, as if by Levitation, one end has rotated upward, and the great Tub now stands precariously balanced upon a sort of lip or Flange at its other end.
"That's amazing!" cries Mason.
"Simple matters of balance,— Centers of Gravity true and virtual,— Moments of Inertia,— "