Malone was the first to speak. "How did you know that was a Jack of clubs?" he said in a strangled sort of voice.
The little old lady said calmly: "He was cheating."
"The dealer?" Malone asked. The little old lady nodded. "In your favor?"
"He couldn't have been cheating," Boyd said at the same instant. "Why would he want to give you all that money?"
The little old lady shook her head. "He didn't want to give it to me," she said. "He wanted to give it to the man in the cowboy's suit. His name is Elliott, by the way—Bernard L. Elliott. And he comes from Weehawken. But he pretends to be a Westerner so nobody will be suspicious of him. He and the dealer are in cahoots—isn't that the word?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Boyd said. "That's the word." His tone was awed and respectful, and the little old lady gave a nod and became Queen Elizabeth I once more.
"Well," she said, "the dealer and Mr. Elliott were in cahoots, and the dealer wanted to give the hand to Mr. Elliott. But he made a mistake, and dealt the Jack of clubs to me. I watched him, and, of course, I knew what he was thinking. The rest was easy."
"My God," Malone said. "Easy." Barbara said: "Did she win?"
"She won," Malone said with what he felt was positively magnificent understatement.
"Good," Barbara said, and lost interest at once.