3. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. ’ ‘It is true,’ insisted the lady. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head.
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