The dealer looked at him. Call or fold? Why wasn't his mind on the game? Why couldn't he decide how to decorate his daughter's bedroom or stock the refrigerator? Why this sudden lapse of interest in life itself? Danielle would fly in later tonight, his daughter, his lone responsibility, his certain chance at failure. Why was he even in this game? "Three thousand to you, sir," the dealer said. "Sure, why not," Sailor answered and called the bet.
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I know danielle dose not do pocker.... did i speel that wrong ugh spell check plzz