“Oh, mercy, no! We never really gamble!” The fluttering little hands deprecated the very idea. “We have just a tiny stake—to—why, only to make us play a better game. It does, you know.”
“Yes’m. And what do you call a tiny stake? Opinions differ, you know.”
“And so do stakes!” The blue eyes flashed a warning. “Of course, we don’t always play for the same. Indeed, the sum may differ at the various tables. Are you prying into my private affairs?”
“Only so far as I’m obliged to, ma’am. Never mind the bridge for the moment. Was Mr. Embury annoyed with his wife—for any reason—when he called to take her home?”
“Now, how should I know that?” a pretty look of perplexity came into the blue eyes. “I’m not a mind reader!”
“You’re a woman! Was Mr. Embury put out?”
Fifi laughed a ringing peal. “Was he?” she cried, as if suddenly deciding to tell the truth. “I should say he was! Why, he was so mad I was positively afraid of him!”
“What did he say?”
“That’s just it! He didn’t say anything! Oh, he spoke to me pleasantly—he was polite, and all that, but I could see that he was simply boiling underneath!”
“You are a mind reader, then!”