Somehow or other I picked up the game pretty quickly, and earned a great deal of applause from my partner by my play.

Indeed, despite my being a new hand, our side won, and the Field-Marshal and Abel had to hand over sixpence after sixpence as the evening went on.

The sight of the money renewed my discomforts; it was bad enough, so I felt, to play cards at all, but to play for money was a thing I had always regarded with a sort of horror.

Alas! how easy it is, in the company of one's fancied superiors, to forget one's own poor scruples! The game at our table came to rather an abrupt end, brought on by a difference of opinion between the Field-marshal and Mr Whipcord on some point connected with a deal.

It was a slight matter, but in the sharp words that ensued my companions came out in a strangely new light.
Whipcord, especially, gave vent to language which utterly horrified me, and the Field-Marshal was not backward to reply in a similar strain.
How long this interchange of language might have gone on I cannot say, had not Doubleday opportunely interposed.