"Yes. I was the first to consider the possibility of bridging the strait."
"Your idea, was it?" said Blake, with reluctant admiration. "It was a big one, all right."
"Nothing as compared to the invention of that bridge," returned Mr.
Leslie.
"Your young friend Ashton sure is a great one," countered Blake.
"The man who planned that bridge is a genius," stated Mr. Leslie with enthusiasm. "That's one fact. Another is that Laffie Ashton is unfit to supervise the construction of the suspension span. I'll see to it myself that the matter is so arranged that you—"
"Thanks, no. You'll do nothing of the kind," broke in Blake. He spoke without brusqueness yet with stubborn determination. "I don't want any favors from you, and you know why. I can appreciate your congratulations, long as you seem to want to be friendly. But you needn't say anything to the company."
"Very well, very well, sir!" snapped Mr. Leslie, irritated at the rebuff. He jerked himself about to Mrs. Gantry. "There's time yet. What do you say to another rubber?"
"You should have spoken before we rose," replied the lady. "There'll be others who wish to go. You'll be able to take over some one's hand. I prefer to remain in here for a tete-a tete with Mr. Blake."
Blake and Mr. Leslie stared at her, alike surprised. The younger man muttered in far other than a cordial tone: "Thanks. But I'm not fit company. Ought to've been abed and asleep hours ago."
"Yet if you'll pardon me for insisting, I wish to have a little chat with you," replied Mrs. Gantry.