Smiling mischievously, she got up and took my proffered hand.
"It'll be an ill-wind, then——"
"Damn the wager!" I burst out. "I don't want to win it at that price. Joyce, if I say I'm beaten, will you be a good girl and go to bed and stay there? Win or lose, I can't bear to see you looking as ill as you are now."
She shook her head a little sadly. "I can't take a holiday now."
"You'll lose the wager."
She looked up swiftly into my face, and lowered her eyes.
"I don't know that I mind that much."
"Joyce!"
"But I can't take a holiday," she repeated.
I opened the door, and on the threshold waved my hand in farewell.