Dismissed in this summary fashion Freddie Stickney wandered about the grounds until it was time to go into the house and dress. He was feeling rather bored. Friocksheim might be cheaper than the Continent, but undeniably it was slow. Nothing happened at Friocksheim. These people seemed to have no interest in scandal. He began to wish that something would turn up to liven things a little. He had had hopes of Morchard at first. The mottle-faced fellow seemed to be keen on the girls; and anything might turn up. But none of the girls seemed interested in Morchard. Nor did they seem fascinated by Freddie himself. A slow place, decidedly slow. He was thoughtful while he dressed. If the Dangerfield circle was going to turn out so boring he might be forced to leave earlier than he had intended; but that would mean paying hotel bills somewhere, and Freddie’s frugal mind could hardly bring itself to consider that prospect except as a last resort.
After dinner the party split up. Douglas Fairmile, complaining bitterly of the heat and clamouring for fresh air, easily persuaded Cynthia to follow him out into the gardens. Old Dangerfield impressed Freddie Stickney to make up a bridge four with Nina Lindale and the doctor’s wife. As they sat down Mrs. Tuxford put in a plea for small stakes.
“What do you call ‘small stakes?’ ” demanded Freddie. “As low as ten bob a hundred? They’re playing their usual points at the other table, I think.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, and noted that Mrs. Caistor Scorton and Morchard were playing against Eric Dangerfield and Eileen.
The doctor’s wife, a shy-looking girl, seemed taken aback by Freddie’s ideas.
“I simply can’t afford to play for anything higher than a shilling a hundred,” she said, ignoring Freddie’s ill-suppressed astonishment at the figure. “I’m sorry, but there it is.”
Rollo Dangerfield winced under Freddie’s tactlessness. He knew that the doctor’s practice was a very small one; and he admired the girl for having the grit to keep the stakes down.
“Quite right,” he interjected, swiftly, before Freddie could say anything further, “I agree with you, Mrs. Tuxford. A shilling a hundred suits well enough if one’s keen on the game for its own sake. I’d much rather play with people who want to win a rubber than with other people who only want to win a sovereign.”
“I’m quite pleased to play for a shilling a hundred,” said Nina Lindale.
Freddie could take a hint as well as most people. His eyes opened a little wider, but nothing else showed whether he was pleased or displeased. As the game began, the doctor came across the room and glanced at his wife’s hand.