So they played on, till Mr. May and Geoffrey had won all the pennies, except twopence of Ciccio’s. Alvina was in debt.
“Well I think it’s been a most agreeable game,” said Mr. May. “Most agreeable! Don’t you all?”
The two other men smiled and nodded.
“I’m only sorry to think Miss Houghton has lost so steadily all evening. Really quite remarkable. But then—you see—I comfort myself with the reflection ‘Lucky in cards, unlucky in love.’ I’m certainly hounded with misfortune in love. And I’m sure Miss Houghton would rather be unlucky in cards than in love. What, isn’t it so?”
“Of course,” said Alvina.
“There, you see, of cauce! Well, all we can do after that is to wish her success in love. Isn’t that so, gentlemen? I’m sure we are all quite willing to do our best to contribute to it. Isn’t it so, gentlemen? Aren’t we all ready to do our best to contribute to Miss Houghton’s happiness in love? Well then, let us drink to it.” He lifted his glass, and bowed to Alvina. “With every wish for your success in love, Miss Houghton, and your devoted servant—” He bowed and drank.
Geoffrey made large eyes at her as he held up his glass.
“I know you’ll come out all right in love, I know,” he said heavily.
“And you, Ciccio? Aren’t you drinking?” said Mr. May.
Ciccio held up his glass, looked at Alvina, made a little mouth at her, comical, and drank his beer.