he threw his three Matadors on to the table in rapid succession, so as to have an opportunity of replacing the missing card from one of his tricks; and in the general fog no one noticed that the six of trumps from the first trick re-appeared in the sixth.
The schoolmaster won his "Solo" and the game came to an end at last.
Just then the richly gilt clock on the chiffonier struck four admonitory strokes. With a righteous smile Mortensen collected his evenly piled heaps of money into an old-fashioned leather purse and buried it in the bottom of his deep trousers pocket, carefully buttoning it up.
At this moment the host's deformed little wife appeared at the door of the adjoining room; she had been sitting wrapped in a big shawl and dozing by the kitchen fire. With an almost inaudible voice, which she tried to make grand, and with an awkward movement of her withered hand, she invited the gentlemen to come in to a "little refreshment."
The host rose too, repeating the invitation in his noisy way. "C-come in, come in and have a l-little refreshment—we n-need something to eat after our labours!"
The "little refreshment," which was served in the next room, turned out to be a fully laid table with pickled pork, ham, sausages, poached eggs, goose, liver pie, and various smoked meats, besides a first course of hot steak and onions; in
