“No such thing! We have lost a rubber apiece, and this one is to decide the issue. Hush, now! I am very much on my mettle, and can’t be distracted.”
He drew up a frail, gilded chair, and sat down astride it, resting his arms on the back. “You said I might watch you!”
“So you may, and bring me good fortune, I hope. Your point is good, Mr Ravenscar.”
“Also my quint, Miss Grantham?”
“That also.”
“Very well, then; a quint, a tierce, fourteen aces, three kings, and eleven cards played, ma’am.”
Miss Grantham cast a frowning glance at the galaxy of court cards which Ravenscar spread before her eyes, and a very dubious glance at the back of the one card remaining in his hand. “Oh, the deuce! All hangs upon this, and I swear there’s nothing to tell me what I should keep!”
“Nothing at all,” he said.
“A diamond!” she said, throwing down the rest of her hand. “You lose,” said Ravenscar, exhibiting a small club. “Piqued, repiqued, and capotted!” groaned Lord Mablethorpe. “Deb, my dearest, I warned you to have nothing to do with Max! Do come away!”
“I am not so poor-spirited! Do you care to continue, sir?”