"Possibly," retorted the other, unabashed. "What you find so fascinating
in him I can't imagine. Still, my dear fellow, setting Vermont aside,
there can be no two opinions respecting your chef. Sarteri is a
possession I positively envy you. There is not another chef in England
that understands entrees as he does."
"None," echoed Lord Standon. "Leroy will be famous for one thing, at
least, if it's only for his cook."
The meal came to an end, and the table was cleared by the silent
Norgate. Cards were produced, and the four were soon deep in the
intricacies of bridge. They played high and recklessly; and after little
more than an hour, Shelton and Leroy had lost over five hundred pounds.
"A close run, eh, Shelton?" laughed Leroy as he took the notes from an
open drawer. "Had they played the knave we should have won. Time for
another round?"
"Not I," replied his friend, with a regretful shake of his head. "I'm
due at Lady Martingdale's."
"Picture galleries again?" laughed Standon, who knew that lady's
weaknesses.
"Yes," Shelton confessed, "and with Miss Martingdale too."
The others laughed significantly.
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