He gathered up his shimmering kimona, hesitated, halted, and again looked back.
"When you're dressed," he drawled, "I've a word to say to you about the game to-night, and another about Gerald."
"I shall not play," she retorted scornfully, "nor will Gerald."
"Oh, yes, you will—and play your best, too. And I'll expect him next time."
"I shall not play!"
He said deliberately: "You will not only play, but play cleverly; and in the interim, while dressing, you will reflect how much more agreeable it is to play cards here than the fool at ten o'clock at night in the bachelor apartments of your late lamented."
And he entered his room; and his wife, getting blindly to her feet, every atom of colour gone from lip and cheek, stood rigid, both small hands clutching the foot-board of the gilded bed.