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So they played on, till Mr. May and Geoffrey had won all the pennies, except twopence of Ciccio's. Alvina was in debt.
"Well I think it's been a most agreeable game," said Mr. May. "Most agreeable! Don't you all?"
The two other men smiled and nodded.
"I'm only sorry to think Miss Houghton has _lost_ so steadily all evening. Really quite remarkable. But _then_--you see--I comfort myself with the reflection 'Lucky in cards, unlucky in love.' I'm certainly _hounded_ with misfortune in love. And I'm _sure_ Miss Houghton would rather be unlucky in cards than in love. What, isn't it so?"
"Of course," said Alvina.
"There, you see, _of cauce_! Well, all we can do after that is to wish her success in love. Isn't that so, gentlemen? I'm sure _we_ are all quite willing to do our best to contribute to it. Isn't it so, gentlemen? Aren't we all ready to do our best to contribute to Miss Houghton's happiness in love? Well then, let us drink to it."
He lifted his gla.s.s, and bowed to Alvina. "With _every_ wish for your success in love, Miss Houghton, and your _devoted_ servant--"
He bowed and drank.
Geoffrey made large eyes at her as he held up his gla.s.s.
"_I_ know you'll come out all right in love, _I_ know," he said heavily.
"And you, Ciccio? Aren't you drinking?" said Mr. May.
Ciccio held up his gla.s.s, looked at Alvina, made a little mouth at her, comical, and drank his beer.
"Well," said Mr. May, "_beer_ must confirm it, since words won't."
"What time is it?" said Alvina. "We must have supper."
It was past nine o'clock. Alvina rose and went to the kitchen, the men trailing after her. Miss Pinnegar was not there. She was not anywhere.
"Has she gone to bed?" said Mr. May. And he crept stealthily upstairs on tip-toe, a comical, flush-faced, tubby little man. He was familiar with the house. He returned prancing.
"I heard her cough," he said. "There's a light under her door. She's gone to bed. Now haven't I always said she was a good soul? I shall drink her health. Miss Pinnegar--" and he bowed stiffly in the direction of the stairs--"your health, and a _good night's rest_."
After which, giggling gaily, he seated himself at the head of the table and began to carve the cold mutton.
"And where are the Natcha-Kee-Tawaras this week?" he asked. They told him.
"Oh? And you two are cycling back to the camp of Kishwegin tonight?
We mustn't prolong our cheerfulness _too_ far."
"Ciccio is staying to help me with my bag tomorrow," said Alvina.
"You know I've joined the Tawaras permanently--as pianist."
"No, I didn't know that! Oh really! Really! Oh! Well! I see!
Permanently! Yes, I am surprised! Yes! As pianist? And if I might ask, what is your share of the tribal income?"
"That isn't settled yet," said Alvina.
"No! Exactly! Exactly! It _wouldn't_ be settled yet. And you say it is a permanent engagement? Of _cauce_, at such a figure."
"Yes, it is a permanent engagement," said Alvina.
"Really! What a blow you give me! You won't come back to the Endeavour? What? Not at all?"
"No," said Alvina. "I shall sell out of the Endeavour."
"Really! You've decided, have you? Oh! This is news to me. And is _this_ quite final, too?"
"Quite," said Alvina.
"I see! Putting two and two together, if I may say so--" and he glanced from her to the young men--"I _see_. Most decidedly, most one-sidedly, if I may use the vulgarism, I _see--e--e!_ Oh! but what a blow you give me! What a blow you give me!"
"Why?" said Alvina.
"What's to become of the Endeavour? and consequently, of poor me?"
"Can't you keep it going?--form a company?"
"I'm afraid I can't. I've done my best. But I'm afraid, you know, you've landed me."
"I'm so sorry," said Alvina. "I hope not."
"Thank you for the _hope_" said Mr. May sarcastically. "They say hope is sweet. _I_ begin to find it a little _bitter_!"
Poor man, he had already gone quite yellow in the face. Ciccio and Geoffrey watched him with dark-seeing eyes.
"And when are you going to let this fatal decision take effect?"
asked Mr. May.
"I'm going to see the lawyer tomorrow, and I'm going to tell him to sell everything and clear up as soon as possible," said Alvina.
"Sell everything! This house, and all it contains?"
"Yes," said Alvina. "Everything."
"Really!" Mr. May seemed smitten quite dumb. "I feel as if the world had suddenly come to an end," he said.
"But hasn't your world often come to an end before?" said Alvina.
"Well--I suppose, once or twice. But _never_ quite on top of me, you see, before--"
There was a silence.
"And have you told Miss Pinnegar?" said Mr. May.
"Not finally. But she has decided to open a little business in Tamworth, where she has relations."
"Has she! And are you _really_ going to _tour_ with these young people--?" he indicated Ciccio and Gigi. "And at _no_ salary!" His voice rose. "Why! It's almost _White Slave Traffic_, on Madame's part. Upon my word!"
"I don't think so," said Alvina. "Don't you see that's insulting."