Reaching the house, I mounted the two or three steps that led to the entrance, and stepping into the vestibule, rang the bell. The door was promptly opened by White's servant, Benton,--for it was but a step from his sitting-room door to the front door,--and I entered the hall and room. As I expected, my four friends were engaged at their game around the centre table, White and Littell playing against Van Bult and Davis. White rose and greeted me, while the others nodded informally; my presence was too usual an event to call for any special demonstration, and after White had directed Benton to look after my wants, the game was promptly resumed. I lighted a fresh cigar, took a brandy and soda, and selecting a comfortable chair, pulled it up between my host--who was to my left--and Van Bult to my right, and settled myself back to look on. The score-card stood at my elbow, and a glance at it showed that the host and Littell were winning. The game proceeded in comparative silence, now and then some one interrupting to ask for a cigar or drink. I noticed that White's orders were rather more frequent than the others, and that the man himself was not looking well. In fact he had not been looking well for some time, as his friends had remarked, but it was passed by with the suggestion that he was "going pretty fast." After, perhaps, an hour of play, at the conclusion of one of the "rubs," White pushed back his chair and declined to play longer. As it still wanted some time of twelve o'clock, the others suggested that the play be continued, and Davis, who, with Van Bult, had lost considerably, rather insisted that they be afforded some opportunity to recoup; but White, without regarding him, got up from the table and directed the man to serve supper, and Van Bult thereupon counted out four crisp new fifty-dollar bills, and left them on the table in settlement of his losses. Neither Littell nor White took them up, and Davis in rather an embarrassed way told Littell he would settle with him next day, that he had not the money with him. I felt sorry for Davis, as I knew the loss, comparatively trifling to Van Bult, must mean some inconvenience to him, but he accepted it gracefully. By this time Benton was ready with supper and the game was apparently forgotten. I do not know why it was, but the usual good spirits that prevailed at our little gatherings seemed lacking this night. Perhaps it was due to the mood of our host, who was evidently out of humor over something. Littell ventured one or two remarks to which we responded perfunctorily, but White was moodily silent. I noticed he was watching me rather closely, and was not surprised when after a while he addressed me, but for his question I was unprepared. "Dallas," he said, "you are in a public prosecutor's office and know something of the evil doings of men; do you think the consciousness of a wrong done a fellow-man clings to the wrong-doer all his life, or that in time he may forget it?"