He grunted another laugh and after studying the position, made a move.
"I foresaw your Excellency's move. It is my chance. Check now, of course, and mate, next move."
"I know when I am outplayed," he said, with a glance. "I resign. And now we will talk. You play a good game and a bold one, Miss Gilmore, but chess is not politics."
"True. Politics require less brains, the stakes are worth winning, and men bar women from competing."
"It is rare to find girls of your age wishing to compete."
"I am twenty-three," I interjected.
"Still, only a girl: and a girl at your age is generally looking for a lover instead of nursing ambitions."
"I have known men of your Excellency's age busy at the same sport," said I. "Besides, I may have been a girl," I added, demurely; taking care to infuse the suggestion with sufficient sentiment.
"And now?" he asked, bluntly.
"I am still a girl, I hope—but with a difference."