“You little fool,” said I between my teeth, “do you think you can play alley-taw and cat’s-cradle with a man like that?”

Then a cold temper flashed in her eyes.

“A man like that,” she repeated. “And pray, dear friend, what manner of man may be ‘a man like that?’“

“One who can over-match you at your own silly sport — and carry the game to its sinister finish! I warn you, have a care of yourself, Lanette. Sir John is a tyro to this man.”

She said hotly: “If I should say to him what you have but now said to me, he would have you out for your impertinence!”

“If he continues to conduct as he has begun,”