I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. . Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. 9.
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