You must lose a pot of money at this game, don’t you?
It’s lucky I’m not playing ten-cent points.
Why not take your finesse the other way?
The eight of clubs was good, you know!
Yes, if you had played your ace of diamonds we would have saved it.
It’s a pity you didn’t open the hearts.
As the leaders of the Smart Set have ceased occupying their brains with literature, music, politics, and art—subjects which were, a long time ago, discussed in our best society—and as their entire mental activities are now focused upon the game of bridge, the author has added for the further benefit of his readers a series of anecdotes, maxims, and experiences which he has gathered during his fruitless attempts to master this fashionable pastime.
There was a lady in the beau monde of New York who was not only a charming woman but an accomplished whist player. Unfortunately, however, she simply could not play fair. Among other idiosyncrasies she had a distressing habit of slipping a high card on the bottom of the pack, after the cut—this was in the days when she played old-fashioned whist. In this way she was always certain of the ace, king, or queen of trumps when it was her turn to deal. She was detected in this graceful little artifice on one or two occasions, with the result that her reputation suffered a slight dimming in its glory.