“Cito acquiritur, cito perit,” she murmured when he lost a $700 hand. Without thinking, he heard the phrase as plainly as if she’d said it in English. Easy come, easy go. Leaning back in his chair, he gazed at a small, fair-haired whore with eyes the color of Indian turquoise. He’d seen her before. She liked to watch the gamblers when she wasn’t working. “Game’s not over yet. Si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit,” he remarked experimentally. Astonished, she said, “Lingua Latina non mortua est!” “Latin’s not dead yet,” he confirmed, adding in a soft murmur, “and neither am I. What’s your name,
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