"
Mutely she gave him her hand. It was Adela who filled in the gap, eager
for entertainment, and the next moment Warden had turned to her, and was
talking in his careless, leisurely fashion. The ordeal was past, her
pulses quieted down again. Yet she realized that he had not addressed a
single word to her, and the conviction came upon her that not thus would
he have treated one who was a total stranger to him.
Because of Fletcher, who remained beside her, she forced herself to join
in the conversation, seconding Adela's urgent request that the two men
would play.
Warden laughed and looked at Fletcher. "Do you care to take me on, sir?"
he said.
From the other side of the table, Harley uttered his barking laugh. "Now
is your chance, Mr. Hill! Down him once and for all, and give us the
pleasure of seeing how it's done!"
There was venom in the words. They were a revelation to Dot, the almost
silent looker-on. It was as if a flashlight had given her a sudden
glimpse of this man's soul, showing her bitter enmity--a black and cruel
hatred--an implacable yearning for revenge. She felt as if she had looked
down into the seething heart of a volcano.
Then she heard Hill's voice. "I am quite willing to play," he said.
A buzz of interest went through the room. The prospective match plainly
excited Warden's many admirers. They drew together, and she heard some
low-voiced betting begin.
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