As a feeble camouflage of its real reason for being, Maddock's called
itself the "Omnium Club." But when Clay found how particular the
doorkeeper was as to those who entered he guessed at once it was a
gambling-house.
From behind a grating the man peered at them doubtfully. Bromfield
showed a card, and after some hesitation on the part of his inquisitor,
passed the examination. Toward Clay the doorkeeper jerked his head
inquiringly.
"He's all right," the clubman vouched.
Again there was a suspicious and lengthy scrutiny.
The door opened far enough to let them slide into a scantily furnished
hall. On the first landing was another guard, a heavy, brutal-looking
fellow who was no doubt the "chucker-out." He too looked them over
closely, but after a glance at the card drew aside to let them pass.
Through a door near the head of the stairs they moved into a large
room, evidently made from several smaller ones with the partitions torn
down and the ceilings pillared at intervals.
Clay had read about the magnificence of Canfield's in the old days, and
he was surprised that one so fastidious as Bromfield should patronize a
place so dingy and so rough as this. At the end of one room was a
marble mantelpiece above which there was a defaced, gilt-frame mirror.
The chandeliers, the chairs, the wall-paper, all suggested the same
note of one-time opulence worn to shabbiness.
A game of Klondike was going. There were two roulette wheels, a faro
table, and one circle of poker players.
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