"Is that why you say you've missed your chess so much?"
"I've missed your white hands moving among the men, more than the game itself." He spoke very quickly, and fumbling nervously among the men upset two of them.
I made a move then that was not chess. I'm not sure that it was quite fair to him indeed. Pretending haste in picking the pieces up, I touched his hand and glanced at him. Our eyes met; and withdrawing my hand quickly, I upset some more men, with a suggestion of agitation.
"I beg your pardon," I stammered. "I'm afraid I don't remember how they stood. I—I think I'm a little confused."
"Why should you be?" he asked, with a glance.
"I don't know. It's very silly. I don't understand myself. I—I believe I'm nervous."
"I can't imagine you nervous—er—Christabel." It was very daring of him; but he tried to say it as if it was his rule to use my name.
I cast my eyes down and sighed. "I think I'll go now," I said after a pause; "if you don't mind."
"But I do mind, very much. Don't bother about the game. I don't care where the men were."
I smiled. "Possibly; but I think I was going to win. I began to see mate ahead."