"Well, now you know, you must see it's impossible--"
"I don't," he contended stubbornly. "Maybe I'm the devil's advocate, but the way I see it--to begin with, I was playing for money; if I had won I'd have expected you to pay up."
"But I couldn't--"
"You would have; that is, Mrs. Gosnold would have paid for you. It was up to her. She meant it that way. She was staking you against the Pride person and myself; that's why you played together; if you and she had lost, she'd have paid for both. So, you see, you may as well quit trying to make me touch that money."
His sophistry baffled her. She shook her head, confused and a little angry in defeat, liking him less than ever.
"Very well. But I don't feel right about it--and I think it most unkind of you."
"Sorry. I only want to play the game as it lies, and this is my idea of doing it."
There was a brief pause while Sally, at a loss, stared out over the shining harbour, now more than ever sensible of the profound, peaceful beauty of its azure floor over which bright sails swung and swayed like slim, tall ladies treading a measure of some stately dance.
"If you ask my definition of unfair play," Trego volunteered, "it's this present attitude of yours--forcing a quarrel on me and getting mad because I stick up for my notion of a square deal!"
"Oh, you misunderstand!" she protested. "I'm only distressed by my conception of what's wrong."