"Take it to Mr. Edgerton," she said to the maid.
Edgerton, dressing leisurely, read the note where he stood under the electric cluster:
"DEAR JIM: The rain, the world, and things oppress me. So do you sometimes.... There's a long future ahead of me. I dread it—who was eager for the plunge a few days since. I seem to be standing on the threshold of things in general, waiting for my cue to enter, but with little heart for the stage now. Alas, I am already tired before the overture has ended.
"If we dance to-night, ask me. Probably I'm the only girl in the house who could stand a dance with you—and I'm not so certain about myself.... But if we play Bridge, continue not to sit at our table. I ask it of you for reasons which are none of your business. Indulge my whim, please.
"JAPONETTE."
He finished dressing, then scribbled a note to her, and sent it by the valet:
"Japonette, dear, I'm as rotten at cards as I am dancing. I won't permit indiscreet infatuation to interfere with your Bridge.... And, by the way, in this sort of a house the chances are they'll play for stakes—probably high stakes. My limit is a cent a point—or was in days of affluence—but our host will scarcely expect us to risk our salaries, I fancy. So even if you have no objection to playing for stakes—which probably, however, you have—you need not feel obliged to. Our duties here do not include losing money to Mr. Rivett's assorted guests, you know. Feel perfectly at liberty to let the table carry you and Silvette.
"Shall I wait and go down with you both?
"J.E."
She read the note; then handed it silently to Silvette, who read it also in silence.