In angry silence Miss Carrington dealt again, and examined her hand. “Nothing above a nine spot!” she declared, throwing them, backs up, on the table.
“Too bad!” murmured Miss Frayne, carelessly picking up the hand. “Why, you didn’t look closely! Here’s an ace and two queens and——”
“They’re nothing! How dare you dispute my word? I say the hand is worthless!” She fairly snatched the cards from the girl and turned them face down again.
“But mad’moiselle,” began the Count, “if you have an ace and two queens, I could have played a no-trump hand grand,—ah, splendid!”
“Yes, you could have played it! You want to play all the open hands! You want me to sit here a dummy, a figure-head, every time!”
“Now, now, Lady Lucy——” and Anita Frayne laughed pleasantly.
“Be quiet! You’re worse yet! You want to deal me good hands to humor me! I believe you would cheat to do it! I don’t want good cards that way!”
“Ah,” begged the Count, seeing Anita flush, “do not tell the young lady she cheats! Do not do that!”
“I’ll tell her what I choose! Gray, say something! You sit there like a mummy, while these people are insulting me right and left! Tell Anita that I am right in not wishing her to deal me good cards purposely.”
“But she didn’t,” declared Haviland; “you know she didn’t. Why, she couldn’t, even if she wanted to!”