Blanche's voice naturally picked him out as the first player on her side.
"I choose Mr.Delamayn," she said.
As the name passed her lips the flush on Miss Silvester's face died away, and a deadly paleness took its place.

She made a movement to leave the summer-house--checked herself abruptly--and laid one hand on the back of a rustic seat at her side.

A gentleman behind her, looking at the hand, saw it clench itself so suddenly and so fiercely that the glove on it split.

The gentleman made a mental memorandum, and registered Miss Silvester in his private books as "the devil's own temper." Meanwhile Mr.Delamayn, by a strange coincidence, took exactly the same course which Miss Silvester had taken before him.

He, too, attempted to withdraw from the coming game.
"Thanks very much," he said.