that you and that Miss Prettyman were always partners at whist?
"How was it managed?
"Why, plain enough. Of course you packed the cards, and could cut what you liked. You'd settled that between you. Yes; and when she took a trick, instead of leading off a trump—she play whist, indeed!—what did you say to her, when she found it was wrong? Oh—it was impossible that her heart should mistake! And this, Mr. Caudle, before people—with your own wife in the room!
"And Miss Prettyman—I won't hold my tongue. I will talk of Miss Prettyman: who's she, indeed, that I shouldn't talk of her? I suppose she thinks she sings? What do you say?
"She sings like a mermaid?
"Yes, very—very like a mermaid; for she never sings but she exposes herself. She might, I think, have chosen another song. 'I love somebody,' indeed; as if I didn't know who was meant by that 'somebody'; and all the room knew it, of course; and that was what it was done for, nothing else.
"However, Mr. Caudle, as my mind's made up, I shall say no more about the matter to-night, but try to go to sleep."
"And to my astonishment and gratitude," writes Caudle, "she kept her word."
