And then Justin revoked.
He had never done such a thing in his life! Laura knew—his mother knew—he had never done such a thing in his life! But if people would gabble and chatter—Beggar-my-Neighbour—Perfect farce—He had never done such a thing in his life!... He said nothing with beautiful restraint, but those were the thoughts that you could see rippling one after another over his Adam’s apple. It was an awful moment.
But even then the situation might have been saved if Aunt Adela, in the giddy delight of the revoke not being hers, had not been coy about it at the end of the round.
“Well, Mr. Partner, and what have you got to say for yourself now?” etc., etc. Upon which Justin—of course there is no excuse whatever for Justin—looked the good lady very deliberately up and down and, without answering, turned to Mr. Valentine.
Aunt Adela flushed, with that sudden change from caricature to quaintly pathetic dignity that an elderly spinster can sometimes achieve. Laura saw it. Impulsively she put out her hand (she was sitting beside him) and touched Justin’s arm.
“Justin!” she breathed.
He shook it off.
“One diamond!” he defied them.
It was at that moment that she looked up to find the eyes of Annabel Moulde fixed upon her.
She stared back, insolent as Justin a moment ago, and Annabel turned away.