The girl’s breath came quickly for all her self-control. There was challenge in her tone, a woman’s taunting. But to McLagan, who knew her every mood, there was more. In his mind he questioned her nerve if the man came back at her, and he edged his way nearer, and his instinct was to support and strengthen her in the weakness he fancied she was beginning to betray.
He reached her side, and her opponent was forgotten. Just for one instant her pretty eyes flashed a smiling upward glance into his plain face, and a wave of relief surged through his anxious mind. Her eyes were full of the confident courage he had feared for.
“It’s good enough!”
Cy Liskard threw his cards on the table face downward.
“It’s yours, my lady. I’m done.”
A gasp of astonishment came from the onlookers. The man’s defeat, his weakness, left them amazed. Then, as Claire reached out and collected the pool, short and sharp came Jubilee’s challenge.
“Your ‘openers,’ Mister!”
Cy Liskard turned his unsmiling eyes on the man. His gaze was cold for all the harshness of his response.
“What the hell!” he cried.
Then he reached towards his cards and sought to turn them. In doing so he displayed all five. Perhaps it was intentional—perhaps, in a fury of resentment at the challenge in his defeat, the thing was inadvertent. Whatever it was, the revelation was complete and a gasp of amazement greeted his action.