“N-nervous? G-gracious no!” she said, on her mettle. “You’ll find I’m not such a poor g-gamester as that, sir!” She sat down at the table, and picked up one of the piquet packs that lay on it. “D-did you arrange everything, then?”
“Certainly,” he said, moving towards another table set against the wall. “A glass of wine, Horry?”
“N-no, thank you,” she replied, sitting rather straight in her chair, and casting yet another glance towards the curtained window.
He came back to the card-table, slightly moved the cluster of candles on it, and sat down. He began to shuffle one of the packs. “Tell me, Horry,” he said, “did you come with me tonight for this, or to annoy Rule?”
She gave a jump, and then laughed. “Oh, R-Robert, that is so very like you! You always g-guess right.”
He went on shuffling the pack. “May I know why he is to be baited?”
“No,” she replied. “I d-don’t discuss my husband, even with you, R-Robert.”
He bowed, ironically she thought. “A thousand pardons, my dear. He stands high in your esteem, I perceive.”
“Very high,” said Horatia. “Shall we c-cut?”
She won the cut, and electing to deal, picked up the pack, and gave a little expert shake of her arm to throw back the heavy fall of lace at her elbow. She was far too keen a gambler to talk while she played. As soon as she touched the cards she had never a thought for anything else, but sat with a look of serious, unwavering concentration on her face, and scarcely raised her eyes from her hand.