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“Red-currant fool!” she said. “What a quaint, old-fashioned name! I shall invent some others. I shall tell my cook to make some gooseberry-idiot, or strawberry-donkey…. My play, I think. A ducky little ace of spades.”

“Haw! haw! gooseberry idiot!” said her partner. “Capital! You won’t beat that in a hurry! And a two of spades on the top of it.”

“You wouldn’t expect to find a two of spades at the bottom of it,” said the Padre with singular acidity.

​The Major was quick to resent this kind of comment from a man, cloth or no cloth.

“Well, by your leave, Bartlett, by your leave, I repeat,” he said, “I shall expect to find twos of spades precisely where I please, and when I want your criticism—”

Miss Mapp hastily intervened.

“And after my wee ace, a little king-piece,” she said. “And if my partner doesn’t play the queen to it! Delicious! And I play just one more.… Yes … lovely, partner puts wee trumpy on it! I’m not surprised; it takes more than that to surprise me; and then Padre’s got another spade, I ken fine!”