rabbit. To-night he said 'I guess I've got you beaten to a pulp,' when I fancy he wasn't guessing at all. I mean to say, I swear he knew it perfectly."
"You lost the game of drawing poker?" I asked coldly, though I knew he had carried little to lose.
"I lost" he began. I observed he was strangely embarrassed. He strangled over his pipe and began anew: "I said that to play the game soundly you've only to know when to bluff. Studied it out myself, and jolly well right I was, too, as far as I went. But there's further to go in the silly game. I hadn't observed that to play it greatly one must also know when one's opponent is bluffing."
"Really, sir?"
"Oh, really; quite important, I assure you. More important than one would have believed, watching their silly ways. You fancy a chap's bluffing when he's doing nothing of the sort. I'd enormously have liked to know it before we played. Things would have been so awfully different for us"—he broke off curiously, paused, then added—"for you."
"Different for me, sir?" His words seemed gruesome. They seemed open to some vaguely sinister interpretation. But I kept myself steady.
"We live and learn, sir," I said, lightly enough.
"Some of us learn too late," he replied, increasingly ominous.
"I take it you failed to win the hundred pounds, sir?"
"I have the hundred pounds; I won it—by losing."
Again he evaded my eye.
"Played, indeed, sir," said I.
"You jolly well won't believe that for long."
