"Only that he was at school with me at Torrington. We met by accident the other day, and he asked me to dinner."
"Torrington. Yes. I had a brother at that school once," said Lord George, "but you and Hay wouldn't get on well together, I should think. You're straight, and he's—"
"You forget, we have been dining with him," said Paul, quickly.
"What of that. I've dined often and have paid pretty dearly for the privilege. I must have lost at least five thousand to him within the last few months."
"In that case I should advise you to play cards no more. The remedy is easy," said Paul, dryly.
"It isn't so easy to leave off cards," rejoined Sandal, gloomily. "I'm that fond of gambling that I only seem to live when I've got the cards or dice in my hand. I suppose it's like dram-drinking."
"If you take my advice, Lord George, you'll give up card-playing."
"With Hay, do you mean?" asked the other, shrewdly.
"With anyone. I know nothing about Hay beyond what I have told you."
"Humph," said Sandal, "I don't think you're a chap like him at all. I may look a fool, but I ain't, and can see through a brick wall same as most Johnnies."