“Good,” said Mauney. “I’ll see you and raise you two. What do you say to that?”
“Ho! ho! The boy is right there!” said Stalton, placing a chip on the table. “I’ll just call you, Mauney. What have you got?”
Mauney placed his cards on the table.
“For heaven’s sake,” exclaimed Mrs. Manton, examining them. “A royal flush! Rather nice, too, Freddie!”
She brushed the pile of money toward the winner and gathering up the cards handed them to Mauney to deal.
“No,” he said, getting up from the table. “I’m not going to play any longer.”
“What’s the matter?” she enquired, curiously.
“You tell me. I’m all out of gear. I’ve been trying vainly to sleep for two hours. Go on with the game. Here, Gertrude, you take this pot and play with it. I don’t want it. I’ll lounge over here for a while.”
He lay down on the sofa and lit a cigarette.
“Maybe you’ve been working too hard, Mauney,” she said, going over to his side and touching his brow with her soft, jewelled hand. “You’re hot.”