"Mr. Norgate and I are already old friends," he insisted. "We occupied
the same coupe coming from Berlin and drank a bottle of wine together in
the buffet."

Mrs. Benedek threw back her head and laughed, a familiar gesture which
her enemies declared was in some way associated with the dazzling
whiteness of her teeth.

"And now," she exclaimed, "you find that you belong to the same bridge
club. What a coincidence!"

"It is rather surprising, I must admit," Norgate assented. "Mr. Selingman
and I discussed many things last night, but we did not speak of bridge.
In fact, from the tone of our conversation, I should have imagined that
cards were an amusement which scarcely entered into Mr. Selingman's
scheme of life."

"One must have one's distractions," Selingman protested. "I confess that
auction bridge, as it is played over here, is the one game in the world
which attracts me."

"But how about the crockery?" Norgate asked. "Doesn't that come first?"

"First, beyond a doubt," Selingman agreed heartily. "Always, though, my
plan of campaign is the same. On the day of my arrival here, I take
things easily. I spend an hour or so at the office in the morning, and
the afternoon I take holiday. After that I settle down for one week's
hard work. London--your great London--takes always first place with me.
In the mornings I see my agents and my customers. Perhaps I lunch with