e Blix that he would no longer gamble at his
club with the other men of his acquaintance; but it was "death and the
devil," as he told himself, to abide by that promise. More than once
in the fortnight following upon his resolution he had come up to the
little flat on the Washington Street hill as to a place of refuge; and
Blix, always pretending that it was all a huge joke and part of their
good times, had brought out the cards and played with him. But she
knew very well the fight he was making against the enemy, and how hard
it was for him to keep from the round green tables and group of silent
shirt-sleeved men in the card-rooms of his club. She looked forward to
the time when Condy would cease to play even with her. But she was too
sensible and practical a girl to expect him to break a habit of years'
standing in a couple of weeks. The thing would have to be accomplished
little by little. At times she had misgivings as to the honesty of the
course she had adopted. But nowadays, playing as he did with her only,
Condy gambled but two or three evenings in the week, and then not for
more than two hours at a time. Heretofore hardly an evening that had
not seen him at the round table in his club's card-room, whence he had
not risen until long after midnight.

Condy had told young Sargeant that he had "reformed" in the matter of
gambling, and intended to swear off for a few months. Sargeant, like
the thoroughbred he was, never urged him to play after that, and never
spoke of the previous night's game when Condy was about. The other men
of his "set" were no less thoughtful, and, though they rallied him a
little at first upon his defection, soon let the matter drop. Condy
told himself that there were plenty of good people in the world, after
all. Every one seemed conspiring to make it easy for him, and he swore
at himself for a weak-kneed cad.

On a certain Tuesday, about a week after the fishing excursion and the
affair of the "Matrimonial Objects," toward half-past six in the
evening, Condy was in his room, dressing for a dinner engagement.
Young Sargeant's sister had invited him to be one of a party who were
to dine at the University Club, and later on fill a box at a charity
play, given by amateurs at one of the downtown theatres. But as he was
washing his linen shirt-studs with his tooth-brush his eye fell upon a
note, in Laurie Flagg's handwriting, that lay on his writing-desk, and
that he had received so