Part 28 (2/2)
”Who plays bridge?”
”Mr. Hawtrey, or Mr. Thurston, or young Hawtrey, and Toby, and Major Markham and me.”
”Always Major Markham?”
”Well, he comes a good deal. He likes coming.”
”_Does_ he?”
”Do you mind?”
”I should mind very much if I thought it would make any difference.”
”Any difference?” She frowned and blinked, as though she were trying hard to see what he meant, what he possibly _could_ mean by that.
”Difference?” she said. ”To what?”
”To you and me.”
”Of course it doesn't. Not a sc.r.a.p. How could it?”
”No. How could it? I don't really believe it could.”
”But why should it?” she persisted.
”Why, indeed. Ours is a wonderful relation. A unique relation. And I think you want as much as I do to--to keep it intact.”
”Of course I want to keep it intact. I wouldn't for worlds let anything come between us, certainly not bridge.” She meditated. ”I suppose I do play rather a lot. There's nothing else to do, you see, and you get carried away.”
”I hope, my dear, you don't play for money.”
”Oh, well, it isn't much fun for the others if we don't.”
”You don't play high, I hope?”
”What do you call high?”
”Well, breaking into pound notes.”
”Pound notes! Penny points--well, ten s.h.i.+llings is the very highest stake when we're reckless and going it. Besides, I always play against Markham and Hawtrey, because I know _they_ won't be hard on me if I lose.”
”Now, _that's_ what I don't like. I'd a thousand times rather pay your gambling debts than have you putting yourself under an obligation to those men.”
He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear to think that Elise could bear it.
”You should have come to me,” he said.
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