His back hunched like a cat's, Patch was sliding forward.
In a flash Lyveden had stooped, caught Valerie's arm with both hands, dug in his heels and flung himself backward….
The three landed in a heap anyhow.
The moment he was at length detached from Valerie, Patch retired a good score of paces from the edge of the bluff. He had had enough of cliffs for the rest of his life. His master's interpretation of games was usually brilliant. This last was an exception. He could see nothing in it.
* * * * *
Betty Alison laid her hand orderly upon the green baize, with the complacent air of the player who is presenting his or her partner with all the essential factors of Grand Slam.
After staring fixedly at the display, her husband put his cards face downwards upon the table and covered his eyes.
"I suppose," he said brokenly, "I suppose you had a reason for overbidding me. I confess I can't see it, but I expect that's because it's too subtle."
"What d'you mean?" was the indignant reply. "Look at those"—and Betty pointed proudly to a queen-high flush of six diamonds.
"But you called hearts!"