Isn't that one great little game!" Mrs.De Peyster stared at his face, grinning like an elated gargoyle; herself utterly limp, her every nerve a filament of icy horror.
"Well, what do you say, girls ?" prompted Mr.Pyecroft.
Mrs.De Peyster at first could say nothing at all.

Whereupon the young man, gleeful over his invention, prompted her again.
"I--can't--can't do it," she gulped out.
"Can't do it!" He stared at her, amazed.

"Say, do you realize what you're passing up ?" "I can't do it," repeated Mrs.De Peyster.
"Why ?" he demanded.
She did not reply.
He stood up, smiling again.

"I won't argue with you; it's bigger than anything you ever pulled off--so big, I guess it stuns you; I'll just let the matter soak in, and put up its own argument.

You'll come in, all right," he continued confidently, "for you need money, and I'm the party that can supply you.