Portlaw and I will take you on at Bridge if it rains to-morrow.

It will be a privilege for us to--ah--watch your game--closely.

Good-night!" And closed the door.
"What the devil does he mean ?" demanded Tressilvain, peering sideways at his wife.
"I don't exactly know," she said thoughtfully, sorting the cards.

She added: "If we play to-morrow you stick to signals; do you understand?
And keep your ring and your fingers off the cards until I can make up my mind about my brother.

You're a fool to drink American whisky the way you did yesterday.