“You’ll never be a bridge player, Maria,” said Sir Oswald.

“No, dear,” said Lady Coote. “I know I shan’t. You’re always telling me so. And I do try so hard.”

“She does,” said Gerald Wade sotto voce. “There’s no subterfuge about it. She’d put her head right down on your shoulder if she couldn’t see into your hand any other way.”

“I know you try,” said Sir Oswald. “It’s just that you haven’t any card sense.”

“I know, dear,” said Lady Coote. “That’s what you’re always telling me. And you owe me another ten shillings, Oswald.”

“Do I?” Sir Oswald looked surprised.

“Yes. Seventeen hundred⁠—eight pounds ten. You’ve only given me eight pounds.”

“Dear me,” said Sir Oswald. “My mistake.”