Byrne didn't try to persuade him further. He took a puff of his cigar and set it aside, then began shuffling the cards, which flew between his fingers.
A moment later, footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by another knock. The waiter opened the door, and a man and a woman in their forties walked in.
" Ismondton, you're late," Byrne said.
"We were delayed on the way," Ismondton and his wife greeted them. "Mr. Schuster is also here."
"Good evening, Mr. Congressman." Carlo twirled a gold pound between his fingers.
The Ismondton looked at Isaac, pausing slightly inquiringly.
Byrne took a puff of his cigar and gestured with his chin. " Isaac Lessing, Schuster's assistant. Lessing, this is Councilor Ismondton, and next to him is his wife, Eileen Ismondton."
Isaac stood up. "Good evening, sir and madam."
Ismondton nodded in response, Mrs. Ismondton smiled slightly, "It's rare for Mr. Schuster to bring someone along; Mr. Lessing looks very young."
"It would be a tragedy if he looked old," Carlo said.
Mrs. Ismondton smiled, clearly familiar with Carlo's speaking style. Councilor Ismondton pulled out a chair for his wife to sit down first, and then sat down beside her.
Byrne glanced at his pocket watch. " Corotty's going to be late. Let's not wait for him, let's begin."
" Corotty is rarely late," Mrs. Ismondton said with a smile.
The waiter poured wine for the Ismondton, Byrne began dealing cards, and Isaac moved to a sofa to sit down.
The first round of the game went very quickly. There were no stakes, and neither player seemed to think much before making their moves. It was over in less than a few minutes, so it was probably just a warm-up game.
During the break in the shuffling, Carlo glanced at Isaac: "Go see if Corotty has arrived yet. There's a limit to being late; he can't just die on the way."
Isaac thought to himself that he didn't even know what Corotty looked like, but Carlo clearly didn't really mean for him to wait for someone at the door, but rather for him to go out and familiarize himself with the environment, instead of just standing in the card room as a background character.
He stood up and nodded to the people at the card table, saying, "I'll go take a look."
Leaving the card room, Isaac strolled around the club's lobby, where several sofas and low tables were set up, with people sitting scattered around, some reading newspapers and others chatting.
A crisp sound of something colliding came from the corner of the hall. Isaac took a few steps closer and saw a rectangular table with several balls of different colors scattered on it. Two men, each holding a slender wooden stick, were leaning over the table.
One of them aimed the stick at a white ball and poked it hard, sending the white ball rolling forward.
Using a stick to poke the ball... Isaac doesn't quite understand the Vista ' game.
The young man, who had just finished a shot, straightened up, noticed Isaac, and said to him, "Want to join me?"
"Never played this before, what is it?"
The young man was somewhat surprised. "Billiards? You've never played billiards before?"
Is billiards something you absolutely need to know? Isaac found it a bit puzzling.
But the surprise in the other person's tone made him realize that this was probably a fairly common form of entertainment among a certain group— Isaac guessed it was upper-class people of similar age to him—and that not having tried it was rather unusual.
Before the young man could say anything more, his companion had already bent down to take a shot, then straightened up and shouted, " Freddie, it's your turn."
Freddie responded, turned back to the table, and bent down to take aim.
Isaac noticed that although he was aiming at a white ball, he didn't seem to be shooting directly at the hole on the table, but rather at another ball.
With a single shot, the cue ball grazed the edge of the object ball. Freddie sighed, propped the cue up on the ground, and turned to Isaac: "You're a new face; I've never seen you before."
"I came with a friend. He's playing cards, and I came out for some fresh air."
Freddie nodded and handed him the cue. "First time here, huh? I saw you standing there watching for ages. Why don't you give it a try? A life without playing billiards is definitely a regret."
Isaac was indeed interested in this game he had never seen before. It seemed to involve hitting the ball into the corner of the table with a cue stick, but Freddie's shot just now was clearly intended to make the cue ball hit another ball. There must be some trick to it.
He thought for a moment and decided to give it a try, "What are the rules?"
"You've never played this before?" Freddie stepped aside.
Did you really think I was pretending to be clueless and hiding my true abilities to show off...? Isaac took the pole.
Freddie's companion stood aside, waiting to see what would happen. Freddie pointed to the several colored balls scattered on the table. "It's simple. Use the white ball to hit the other colored balls and knock them into the holes in the corner of the table, but don't hit the white ball in."
"Play in order, first the red balls, then the colored balls, alternating. A red ball is worth 1 point, and the colored balls are worth different points according to their color: yellow 2, green 3, brown 4, blue 5, pink 6, black 7. Continue until all the red balls are off the table. Then, remove all the colored balls from the table in order of their point value from lowest to highest. The person with the most points wins."
The rules weren't too hard to remember. Isaac copied the posture he had just seen, bent down, placed the club between his thumb and forefinger, aimed at the cue ball, and tried to putt.
The cue tip slipped, and the white ball rolled off at an awkward angle, grazing the edge of the red ball.
Isaac straightened up, and both aiming and power required precise control; it wasn't something that could be hit with just any shot.
"One more time?" Freddie suggested, seemingly eager to get Isaac into the game.
Isaac recalled the problem with his previous shot. His grip angle seemed wrong. He adjusted his stance, bent down, aimed the club at the cue ball, made two practice putts to get a feel for it, calculated the angle, and then hit the shot.
The white ball collided with the red ball, and the red ball rolled towards the pocket at the corner of the table and fell in.
Freddie whistled. "Not bad, pretty talented. Want to join us? We meet up here every Wednesday night for a few rounds."
Isaac handed the club back to Freddie: "No need for that. I can't always find the time to play regularly."
Freddie glanced at Isaac twice. Isaac looked to be about the same age as him, and his mannerisms and vocabulary were similar to those of people in aristocratic circles, but he had never seen this face in Vista's social circles before.
As he was pondering which circle Isaac belonged to, a commotion came from the direction of the club's main entrance.
Isaac heard the address "Mr. Corotty " and looked over to see a portly man walking into the hall. His dark suit covered his round body, a classic example of affluence.
But the way he walked made Isaac frown slightly, his steps unsteady, and his body sway slightly, as if his joints were not performing their function properly.
Something's not right... Isaac nodded to Freddie, "Excuse me."
"Hey, wait--"
Before Freddie could react, Isaac had already followed in Corotty's direction.