“Not even a tiger,” Howard informed her cheerfully.
“Nary cannibal,” the Judge added, with facetious looks and stepping about on tiptoe as if in mortal fear of bogies.
“I saw him! I saw....” Words failed her. She played her card blindly, and took the trick. This was the last straw, as far as Corinne was concerned.
“Mamma! It’s my trick!” She snatched it away from her mother with trembling hands. Her nerves were taut from the scare she had received, for the wild shriek had been sent almost into her ear. It proved the last straw for Mrs. Witherby also.
“Corinne!” she thundered. “This is too much! Do you suppose your mother is going to sit here the whole evening and not take a single trick? How dare you assert yourself so?”
Corinne threw down her cards and burst into explosive sobs.
“I don’t—I didn’t—I never did. It was my trick.” Wells patted her shoulder affectionately.
“There, there, dear child. Don’t cry.”
“What’s this?” the Judge asked. “Our merry Corinne in tears?”
“No one thinks of me, the mother!” Mrs. Witherby whimpered.