"Well played, partner, jolly well played."
Bill Eversleigh was making calculations with Ronny Devereux.
"Say he goes to bed about twelve—what do you think we ought to give him—about an hour?"
He yawned.
"Curious thing—three in the morning is my usual time for bye-bye, but to-night, just because I know we've got to sit up a bit, I'd give anything to be a mother's boy and turn in right away."
Everyone agreed that he felt the same.
"My dear Maria," rose the voice of Sir Oswald in mild irritation, "I have told you over and over again not to hesitate when you are wondering whether to finesse or not. You give the whole table information."
Lady Coote had a very good answer to this—namely that as Sir Oswald was dummy, he had no right to comment on the play of the hand. But she did not make it. Instead she smiled kindly, leaned her ample chest well forward over the table, and gazed firmly into Gerald Wade's hand where he sat on her right.
Her anxieties lulled to rest by perceiving the queen, she played the knave and took the trick and proceeded to lay down her cards.
"Four tricks and the rubber," she announced. "I think I was very lucky to get four tricks there."