“And you insult her worse, with your parsimony!” came the swift retort.
“It is calumny for you to say she loves you!” Suffle growled.
“Yet stake me, sir, or you shall see me get her and laugh at your stinginess,” Rust flung at him banteringly. “Come, sir, one more moment and I withdraw the offer.”
“Done!” said Suffle, “for by ’sdeath, my fortune shall prove you a liar! Throw the dice.”
Adam threw and counted. “My luck has changed at last,” he said, in triumph.
“We shall see,” retorted Suffle, and flinging the dice he sat down and roared with laughter.
“Lost!” said Adam, tragically. “So be it. To the devil with you, sir; and I wish you joy of your winnings.”
He strode from the table, met Sir William Phipps at the door, winked at him merrily and so drew him out in the hall.
“What’s this? What’s this?” said the Governor, excitedly. “I come here to see you, with news on my tongue, and find you—like this!”
“Tush, William,” said Adam, laughing boyishly, and as cool as a fish. “I was betting in farthings. I must have lost a hundred. Did you think the luck was all with Suffle?”