And he did discover it at last--some flowers upon the table
being set throbbing by its pulsations.
'I think we had better give over,' said Knight, looking at her
gently. 'It is too much for you, I know. Let us write down the
position, and finish another time.'
'No, please not,' she implored. 'I should not rest if I did not
know the result at once. It is your move.'
Ten minutes passed.
She started up suddenly. 'I know what you are doing?' she cried,
an angry colour upon her cheeks, and her eyes indignant. 'You
were thinking of letting me win to please me!'
'I don't mind owning that I was,' Knight responded phlegmatically,
and appearing all the more so by contrast with her own turmoil.
'But you must not! I won't have it.'
'Very well.'
'No, that will not do; I insist that you promise not to do any
such absurd thing. It is insulting me!'
'Very well, madam. I won't do any such absurd thing. You shall
not win.'
'That is to be proved!' she returned proudly; and the play went
on.
Nothing is now heard but the ticking of a quaint old timepiece on
the summit of a bookcase. Ten minutes pass; he captures her
knight; she takes his knight, and looks a very Rhadamanthus.
More minutes tick away; she takes his pawn and has the advantage,
showing her sense of it rather prominently.
Five minutes more: he takes her bishop: she brings things even by
taking his knight.
Three minutes: she looks bold, and takes his queen: he looks
placid, and takes hers.
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