The things we do!

There is fine precedent for
our little enterprise."
The swift flush on the face of the other man made his answer.
Dunwody went on mercilessly:
"He played then much as you do now. There was against him then, as
there is now against you, a man who admired not so much just one
woman in all the world as, let us say, one particular woman then
and there present. Perhaps you remember his name--Mr. Parish--later
ennobled by the German government and long known as a land baron in
New York. Come! Think of it! Picture that snowbound train, that
great citizen, and Parish, playing and playing, until at last it
came to the question of a woman--not so beautiful as this one here,
but in her own way shrewd, _the same sort of woman_, I might
say--mysterious, beautiful, and--no, don't protest, and I'll not
describe. You remember very well her name. It was pleasant
property not so long ago for everybody. They played for the _love_,
not for the hand, of that woman. Parish won her.


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