Istra--
Theoretically, he remembered her as a great experience.
But what nebulous bodies these theories are!
That slow but absolutely accurate Five-Hundred player, Mr.
William Wrenn, known as Billy, glanced triumphantly at Miss
Proudfoot, who was his partner against Mrs. Arty and James
T. Duncan, the traveling-man, on that night of late February.
His was the last bid in the crucial hand of the rubber game.
The others waited respectfully. Confidently, he bid "Nine
on no trump."
"Good Lord, Billl" exclaimed James T. Duncan.
"I'll make it."
And he did. He arose a victor. There was no uneasiness, but
rather all the social polish of Mrs. Arty's at its best, in his
manner, as he crossed to Mrs. Ebbitt's chair and asked: "How is
Mr. Ebbitt to-night? Pretty rheumatic?" Miss Proudfoot offered
him a lime tablet, and he accepted it judicially. "I believe
these tablets are just about as good as Park & Tilford's," he
said, cocking his head. "Say, Dunk, I'll match you to see who
rushes a growler of beer.
Pages:
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365