“Alas, my frien'!” exclaimed Madame de Vaurigard, rising, “is it not what I tol' you? Always you are never content wizout your play. You come to dinner an' when it is finish' you play, play, play!”
“Play?” He sprang to his feet. “Bravo! That's the very thing I've been wanting to do. I knew there was something I wanted to do, but I couldn't think what it was.”
Lady Mount-Rhyswicke followed the others into the salon, but Madame de Vaurigard waited just inside the doorway for Mellin.
“High play!” he cried. “We must play high! I won't play any other way.—I want to play high!”
“Ah, wicked one! What did I tell you?”
He caught her hand. “And you must play too, Helene.”
“No, no,” she laughed breathlessly.
“Then you'll watch. Promise you'll watch me. I won't let you go till you promise to watch me.”
“I shall adore it, my frien'!”
“Mellin,” called Cooley from the other room. “You comin' or not?”