"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play to a finish before we decide who scoops the pool." "What do you mean?" she whispered. He did not answer her, and she thought there was something contemptuous in his silence. She waited a little, summoning her strength, then, rising, with a desperate courage she faced him. "I don't understand you. Tell me what you mean!" He made a curious gesture as if he would push her from him. "I am not good at explaining myself," he said. "But you will understand me better presently." And again inexplicably she shrank. There was that about him which terrified her more than any uttered menace. "What are you going to do?" she said nervously. "Why--why have you followed me?" He answered her in a tone which she deemed scoffing. It was too dark for her to see his face. "You can hardly expect me to show my hand at this stage," he said. "You never showed me yours." It was true, and she found no word to say against it. But none the less, she was horribly afraid. She felt herself to be utterly at his mercy, and was instinctively aware that he was in no mood to spare her. "I can't go on playing, Pat," she said, after a moment, her voice very low. "I have no cards left to play." "In that case you are beaten," he said, with that doggedness which she was beginning to know as a part of his fighting equipment. "Do you own it?" She hesitated. "Do you own it?" he insisted sternly. And, yielding to a sudden impulse that overwhelmed all reason, she threw herself unreservedly upon his mercy. "Yes, I own it." He stood silent for several seconds after the admission, while she waited with a thumping heart. At last, half-grudgingly it seemed to her, he spoke. "You are a wise woman," he said, "even wiser than I took you for, which is saying much. The game is ended, then. But you will pardon me if I refuse to surrender my winnings. Such as they are, I value them." She bent her head. Her subjection was complete. She was too exhausted, physically and mentally, to attempt to withstand him, and undoubtedly the ultimate victory was his. Had he not witnessed those agonizing tears? "You are welcome to anything you can find," she said, smiling wanly. "I suppose all experience is of value. At least, I used to think so." Again for a moment he was silent. Then: "It is the most valuable thing in the world," he said, "if you know how to turn it to account. But, sure, that is a lesson that some of us are slow to learn." He paused; then, as she remained silent, "You are going below to rest?" he said. "Don't let me keep you! You have travelled hard, and need it." There was a hint of the old kindliness in his tone. She stood listening to it, longing, yet not daring to avail herself of it and make her peace with him.