“I’ll borrow from Robins the butler.”
“Goodness, girl alive! Isn’t that queer doings?”
“Oh, Robins knows me; he is a family friend, and rolling in tips. Well, Joe, you are decent. I’ll pay you next quarter.”
“No, no, let me give you the money; I really don’t want it. I wish you would promise me not to—I won’t say play bridge—I’m not a born fool; but not to play for so much.”
“I’ll promise farthing points with pleasure; I will indeed,” said Tito emphatically. “I’m sick of the whole thing. I love the game, but I loathe losing my money, and I’m not a very good player, for I’m too hasty and emotional, like you! By the way, why do you sit up here all by your little lone?”
“Where else would you have me sit? They are not missing me downstairs, are they?” she asked, with a sarcastic laugh. “And when I’m here, I’m not making a show of myself.”
“They are a horrid pack, most of them! Old Lady Boxhill—I suppose she’ll take the Prince—Lady Towton, Mrs. Folly, and Gussie Tripp—hateful! But you should not let them draw you out about wakes, and dances, and your schooling, and so on.”
“Sure, I see that, and I’m getting wiser now. I thought they wanted information, they all seemed so eager with questions. Now, I know ’twas only laughing they were.”
“Tony disapproves of them; says they are—well, no matter; and he was horrified at my losing this money”; and she held up the notes. “He never plays high now; he simply refuses anything more than half a crown a hundred. You can lose quite enough at that.”