Griffiths had become more taciturn than ever, and even Philippa was forced to admit that the latter part of the evening had scarcely been a success.
"Do you play club bridge in town, Mr.Lessingham ?" Griffiths asked.
"Never," was the calm reply.
"You are head and shoulders above our class down here." "Very good of you to say so," Lessingham replied courteously.

"I held good cards to-night." "I wonder," Griffiths went on, dropping his voice a little and keeping his eyes fixed upon his companion, "what the German substitute for bridge is." "I wonder," Lessingham echoed.
"As a nation," his questioner proceeded, "they probably don't waste as much time on cards as we do." Lessingham's interest in the subject appeared to be non-existent.

He strolled away from the sideboard towards Philippa.

She, for her part, was watching Captain Griffiths.
"So many thanks, Lady Cranston," Lessingham murmured, "for your hospitality." "And what about that secret ?" she asked.
"You see, there are two," he answered, looking down at her.

"One I shall most surely tell you before I leave here, because it is the one secret which no man has ever succeeded in keeping to himself.