Barclay knew he had won.

He added slowly, "You understand ?" Brownwell smiled benignly.

Barclay looked nervously at the unfinished letter on the table.

Brownwell waved his arms again dramatically, and replied: "Ah, thank you--thank you.

I shall play my hand out--and hearts are trumps--are they not ?" And he went out almost dancing for joy.
When the man was gone Barclay shuddered; his contempt for Brownwell was one of the things he prided himself on, and the intrigue revolted him.