“Then rumor falsifies,” he answered gravely; “for I disapprove upon military grounds of all forms of gambling in military quarters. I never played baccarat in a regimental mess-room in my life.”
She gave a little cry of astonishment and joy. Complete, indeed, was this refutation of the tale of the Brooke!
“Why,” she exclaimed, with the inconsequence of a true woman, “why did you never tell me this before?”
“Tell you before!” he repeated. “Why should I?”
“Never mind,” she answered, panting, “I’m still quite angry with you.”
“Angry?” he asked, perturbed. “Why? Because I haven’t played baccarat?”
“No, no,” she retorted impatiently. “Because you are so credulous.”
“Credulous?”
“Yes,” she replied petulantly. “What was that interesting story told to you at the last ball regarding a certain lady who shall be nameless? A story which you accepted and believed, I suppose!” she added indignantly.
He stared straight ahead and made no reply.