My partner--I do not know his name; I hope I shall never know his name; I hope I shall never see him again--he takes me out.

'Into what ?' you ask.

Into diamonds! I am regretful, but I recognise, as I believe, a necessity.

I ask you, of what do you suppose his hand consists?
Down goes my no trump on the table--a good, a very good no trump.

He has in his hand the ace, king, queen and five diamonds, the king of clubs guarded, the ace and two little hearts, and he takes me out into diamonds from no trumps with a score at love all.