lunching with a girl yesterday at the Ace of Spades. It’s a queer little underground den in Chelsea, and she told me that it’s quite the fashion at these big shows to trundle round there in the course of the evening for bacon and eggs and Welsh Rabbits—Bohemian sort of stuff. It’s got screened off booths all round it. Pretty hot place, I should say.”
“And your idea is—?”
“Three hearts stands for the Three Arts Ball tomorrow night, 12 tricks is twelve o’clock, and the Ace of Spades is the Ace of Spades.”
“And what about its being necessary to finesse the King?”
“Well, that’s what I thought we’d find out.”
“I shouldn’t wonder if you weren’t right, Tuppence,” said Tommy magnanimously. “But I don’t quite see why you want to butt in upon other people’s love affairs.”