Vanulm smiled quietly. He knew of Mott-Smith's means, or rather lack of them, and his consequent little eccentricities. Therefore he yawned out of pure good fellowship. "It is late," he agreed. "I'm getting sleepy myself. What do you say, Gordon?" Gordon shrugged his shoulders. "Don't ask me," he answered indolently. "I believe up to date I'm the heavy winner. Stop now or play till morning. It's all one to me." With a sudden impatient gesture Palmer swept the cards together. "Let's cut it out!" he cried. "We've had enough bridge, and, besides, I've got something I want to tell you fellows. It isn't really supposed to be out until to-morrow, but it's so near that I guess it's all right." He paused a moment, as if uncertain how to proceed, while the others gazed at him curiously without speaking. Then Gordon broke the silence. "This sounds suspicious, Harry," he said quizzically. "'Out tomorrow' has come to mean only one thing nowadays." Palmer caught at the offered opening with evident relief. "That's what it is!" he cried. "I've had enough of sporting around, and I'm going to quit it and settle down. You all know who she is. May Sinclair, General Sinclair's daughter, and I think I'm the luckiest chap going." Gordon was the first to extend his hand, and a careful observer might have noted an unusual gleam of genuine interest in eyes as a rule carefully schooled not to show any emotion whatever. "Lucky!" he exclaimed. "Well, I should say you were! You're a sharp one to steal a march on us like this. Why, that's the best news I've heard in a long time." Vanulm and Mott-Smith in turn added their congratulations to his, and then Gordon touched the bell. "John," he cried gaily, as the waiter appeared in answer, "will you kindly bring us the oldest, biggest and best magnum of champagne you've got in your cellar? We want to celebrate a great event." Palmer raised a protesting hand. "Oh, I say, Gordon!" he exclaimed, his face flushing as he spoke, "thank you just as much, but please don't bother. I'm not drinking now. You know I really can't touch the stuff. I--" Gordon cut him short. "There, there," he said good-humoredly, "I refuse to listen to any such talk as that. On any ordinary occasion I'd say you were perfectly right, but this is the one time in a man's life when a drink is really the only proper thing. It would hardly be fair to the lady, otherwise, Harry." The appeal to Palmer's pride was successful. "Well," he assented half-doubt fully, "if you really think so, Gordon--perhaps this once--but I'm going to cut the whole thing out, you know," and Gordon's point, as usual, was gained.