"Bosh, my dear fellow."
"Why bosh? What's up now?"
"Bosh! Bosh! Bosh! Me to play, is it?" Down he went, and not finding a good open for a hazard, again waxed himself to the cushion, to the infinite disgust of Griggs, who did indeed hit the ball this time, but in such a way as to make the loss of another life from Griggs' original three a matter of certainty. "I don't think it's hardly fair," whispered Griggs to a friend, "a man playing always for safety. It's not the game I like, and I shan't play at the same table with Doodles any more."
"It's all bosh," repeated Doodles, coming back to his seat. "She don't mean to do anything, and never did. I've found her out."
"Found out what?"
"She's been laughing at you. She got your money out from under your glove, didn't she?"
"Well, I did put it there."
"Of course you did. I knew that I should find out what was what if I once went there. I got it all out of her. But, by George, what a woman she is! She swore at me to my very face."
"Swore at you! In French you mean?"
"No; not in French at all, but damned me in downright English. By George, how I did laugh!—me and everybody belonging to me. I'm blessed if she didn't."