(With Alice’s love).”
“O, there be many systems
But only one that wins—
When leading from your strongest suit,
Just kick your partner’s shins.”
—Hoyle.
JEFF pulled the paper over and began to scribble madly; pausing from time to time to glance around for inspiration: at the Judge, at Mac, at the papers, the books, the typewriter. “I’ll slip in a note for the kids,” said Jeff. His lips moved, his eyes kindled in his eager absorption; his face took on a softer and tenderer look. The Judge, watching him, beamed with almost paternal indulgence.
On the whole Jeff wrote with amazing swiftness for a man who professed to be unaccustomed to lying. For this communication, apparently so spontaneous, dashed off by a man hardly yet clear of the shadow of death, was learned by rote, no syllable unpremeditated, the very blots of it designed.
This is what he handed the Judge at last: