“Three tricks!” she said exultantly, “and you cannot make game this hand.” 82
“I’m very sorry, partner,” Miss Tilghman apologized.
“It’s entirely excusable under the circumstances,” said Dangerfield, with deliberate accent. “You may do it again!”
“How courteous Mr. Dangerfield is,” Miss Erskine smiled. “To my mind, nothing excuses a revoke except sudden blindness.”
“And you would claim it even then, I suppose?” Dangerfield retorted.
“I said, sudden blindness was the only excuse, Mr. Dangerfield. Had you observed my language more closely, you doubtless would have understood.—It is your lead, partner.”
Dangerfield, with a wink at Croyden, subsided, and the hand was finished, as was the next, when Croyden was dummy, without further jangling. But midway in the succeeding hand, Miss Erskine began.
“My dear Mr. Croyden,” she said, “when you have the Ace, King, and no more in a suit, you should lead the Ace and then the King, to show that you have no more—give the down-and-out signal. We would have made an extra trick, if you had done so—I could have given you a diamond to trump. As it was, you led the King and then the Ace, and I supposed, of course, you had at least four in suit.”
“I’m very sorry; I’ll try to remember in future,” said Croyden with affected contrition. 83
But, at the end of the hand, he was in disgrace again.