Next to shooting he likes bindings better than anything in the world--in fact he's a capital bookbinder himself.' At this juncture Mustapha Pasha's pale and spiritual face appeared between the curtains of the small room, and he interrupted the conversation by a single word.
'Bridge ?' Lady Maud was on her feet in an instant.
'Rather!' 'Do you play ?' asked the Ambassador, turning to Margaret, who rose more slowly.
'Very badly.

I would rather not.' The diplomatist looked disappointed, and she noticed his expression, and suspected that he would feel himself obliged to talk to her instead of playing.
'I'm very fond of looking on,' she added quickly, 'if you will let me sit beside you.' They went back to the drawing-room, and presently the celebrated Senorita da Cordova, who was more accustomed to being the centre of interest than she realised, felt that she was nobody at all, as she sat at her host's elbow watching the game through a cloud of suffocating cigarette smoke.

Even old Griggs, who detested cards, had sacrificed himself in order to make up the second table.

As for Logotheti, he was too tactful to refuse a game in which every one knew him to be a past master, in order to sit out and talk to her the whole evening.
Margaret watched the players with some little interest at first.

The disagreeable Mr.Feist lost and became even more disagreeable, and Margaret reflected that whatever he might be he was certainly not an adventurer, for she had seen a good many of the class.