He was silent. She glanced about the room. It was nearly dark and the fire was flickering on the hearth. Unconsciously she looked up as though seeking an answer to her question. Again two grey eyes looked softly through the twilight into her own. "Because I feel certain of it," he said quietly and emphatically, as though in answer to her questioning glance.
"Then you shall acknowledge yourself mistaken," she slowly replied. "I'll give you a fair chance. Will you dine with us on Friday?"
"A day of ill luck, but I accept," he replied as he rose to go. "Shall it be a truce in the interim?" he added, offering his hand.
"If you like," she replied.
"Good-by," he said, taking her hand. "It shall be a fair game and I will play to win."
"But you will lose," she answered.
Her eyes followed him as he left the room. "An interesting nature to study," she thought, "but I wish he would not look at me in that way."