"Can't we go somewhere and play bridge," Trixy demanded.
"I'd be delighted to offer you the hospitality of my packing-case, as you call it," said Brent, "but the dining-room ceiling fell down Wednesday, and I'm having the others bolstered up as a mere matter of precaution."
"I suppose we couldn't get a fourth, anyway. Neither Jimmy nor Toots plays. It's so stupid of them not to learn."
"Mrs. Spence might, help us out," suggested Brent.
"Do you play?" exclaimed Mrs. Kame, in a voice of mixed incredulity and hope.
"Play!" cried Mr. Brent, "she can teach Jerry Shorter or the Duchess of
Taunton."
"The Duchess cheats," announced Cecil Grainger. "I caught her at it at
Cannes—"
"Indeed, I don't play very well," Honora interrupted him, "and besides—"
"Suppose we go over to Mrs. Spence's house," Trixton Brent suggested.
"I'm sure she'd like to have us wouldn't you, Mrs. Spence?"
"What a brilliant idea, Trixy!" exclaimed Mrs. Kame.