Never had a lunch tasted so delicious. What if the wine was warm
and the stuffed olives oily? What if the pepper for the hard-
boiled eggs had sifted all over the "devilish" ham sandwiches?
What if the eggs themselves had not been sufficiently cooked, and
the corkscrew forgotten? They COULD not be anything else but
inordinately happy, sublimely gay. Nothing short of actual
tragedy could have marred the joy of that day.
But after they were done eating, and Blix had put away the forks
and spoons, and while Condy was stretched upon his back smoking a
cigar, she said to him:
"Now, Condy, what do you say to a little game of cards with me?"
The cigar dropped from Condy's lips, and he sat suddenly upright,
brushing the fallen leaves from his hair. Blix had taken a deck
of cards from the lunch-basket, and four rolls of chips wrapped in
tissue paper. He stared at her in speechless amazement.
"What do you say?" she repeated, looking at him and smiling.
"Why, Blix!" he exclaimed in amazement, "what do you mean?"
"Just what I say. I want you to play cards with me."
"I'll not to do it," he declared, almost coldly.
"Listen to me, Condy," answered Blix; and for quite five minutes,
while he interrupted and protested and pshawed and argued, she
talked to him calmly and quietly.
"I don't ask you to stop playing, Condy," she said, as she
finished; "I just ask you that when you feel you must play--or--I
mean, when you want to very bad, you will come and play with me,
instead of playing at your club.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103