"Thank you," Elsie said, trying to make her voice sound natural; "I never play cards."
"Oh, that's of no consequence! You can easily learn. Ben, you could teach her in five minutes, so she could play with you, couldn't you?"
"Doubt it exceedingly. There is an insurmountable objection, I fancy. Unless I am mistaken, she will decline to be taught."
"No, she won't; we can't make up a set without her, and she will not be so disagreeable as to refuse. Come, Elsie, you will be accommodating, won't you?"
Poor Elsie felt like nothing so much as bursting into tears, and running away, but she stood her ground bravely.
"I am sorry to appear unaccommodating, Carrie, but Ben is right; I cannot play cards any better than I can read that book."
"What is the matter with cards?" There was a sneering tone to Carrie's voice; perhaps it was well for Elsie that such was the case. Sneers were apt to give her courage.
She choked back the tears, and tried to answer lightly: "They are innocent enough, I suppose; it is the rough handling that the poor things get to which I object."
"That is begging the question. Our professor of rhetoric says people always do that when they are unable to prove their statements. I am tired of hints and sanctimonious flings. Everything is wicked nowadays. You used to have as much life in you as anybody; if there is any reason for such pokiness, I should like to hear it. Why won't you play cards?"
"The prisoner will stand and answer to the solemn charge preferred against her."