Whom do you choose ?" Over his handsome face the slightest muscular change passed, but far from wincing he nodded coolly.
"One umpire is enough," he said.

"When our game is well on you may ask Rosalie to judge how well I've done it--if you care to." The bright smile she wore changed.

Her face was now only a lovely dark-eyed mask, behind which her thoughts had suddenly begun racing--wild little thoughts, all tumult and confusion, all trembling, too, with some scarcely understood hurt lashing them to recklessness.
"We'll have two umpires," she insisted, scarcely knowing what she said.
"I'll choose Duane for the second.

He and Rosalie ought to be able to agree on the result of our game." Dysart turned his head away leisurely, then looked around again unsmiling.
"Two umpires?
Soit! But that means you consent to play." "Play ?" "Certainly." "With you ?" "With me." "I'll consider it....

Do you know we have been talking utter nonsense ?" "That's part of the game." "Oh, then--do you assume that the--the game has already begun ?" "It usually opens that way, I believe." "And where does it end, Mr.Dysart ?" "That is for you to say," he replied in a lower voice.
"Oh! And what are the rules ?" "The player who first falls really in love loses.