"We could get up a four in this house," said Lovell. "We three and the Caterpillar. He plays, I know. The Colonel is one of the cracks at the Turf. It would be an awful lark. A mild gamble: small points—eh? A bob a hundred. What do you say, Cæsar?"
Desmond hesitated. Bridge had not yet reached its delirious stage. But Desmond had seen it played, had heard his father praise it as the most fascinating of card-games, and had determined to learn it at the first convenient opportunity. None the less Warde's words still echoed in his ear.
"I think we ought to give Warde a chance," he said.
"You don't mean to say you were taken in by him?" said Lovell, contemptuously.
Desmond burst into enthusiastic praise of Warde and his methods. Lovell shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the room, nodding to Scaife, but ignoring Desmond.
"You must go canny with Lovell," said Scaife. "He's the fellow who ought to give you your 'fez' after the first house-game."
"Never mind that. You won't play bridge, Demon, will you?"
"Why not?" said Scaife. "Where's the harm? Your governor plays——"
"Yes; but——"
"You're afraid of getting sacked?"