Jacob hesitated for a moment.
“Look here, Felix,” he suggested, “if you’d like to have another go at them—”
Felixstowe shook his head.
“I’m not built that way,” he interrupted. “I’ve given them best this time. You see,” he went on, “it’s a mug’s game, after all, and meant for mugs. I shall wait and pick up my little bit where the grey matter talks, what?”
“I see,” Jacob replied. “Perhaps you are right. Sorry to lose you, though.”
“I’ll look you up in town,” the young man promised.
CHAPTER XV
Jacob lingered for a month in Monte Carlo. While he found little to attract him in the gambling or the social side of the place, the glorious climate, the perpetual sunshine, the fine air of La Turbie, and a pleasing succession of golf victories helped him to pass the time pleasantly. He spent a week at Cannes on the way back, making wonderful progress in his tennis, and from there he hired a motor-car and spent a fortnight at Aix. He reached London early in May, to find Dauncey unchanged and his own affairs prosperous. During all this time he had had no word of or from Sybil Bultiwell. He went almost directly to his cottage at Marlingden, where he found Mrs. Harris eagerly awaiting his arrival, and over the supper table, Dauncey and he and a rejuvenated Nora talked over that evening when the two men had arrived home in the motor-car, laden with strange packages and overflowing with their marvellous news.