I grant you that humdrum wears upon the
spirit, that the flatness of the daily road may be a harder thing
to get over than even Mr. Bunyan's hill Difficulty, but for a man
to surrender himself mind and body to solitaire argues weakness.
Moreover, it was a ridiculous combination of the cards that Indiman
invariably set himself to resolve; the chances were at least a
hundred to one against the solitaire coming out, and, indeed, I
never saw him get it but once. Under rather curious circumstances,
too--but I won't anticipate; let us begin with the beginning of the
adventure of the Queen of Spades.
You will remember that there was a mislaid letter whose possession
had become a matter of supreme importance to a certain great person
in Russia. The Countess Gilda (she of the Ninety-and-nine Kisses)
had been on the point of obtaining the treasure, but the over-
confidence of my friend Indiman, coupled with the blunders of a
stupid detective, had brought about a premature explosion of the
train. To Indiman, apologetic and remorseful, the Countess Gilda
had vouchsafed a single pregnant utterance--"Wait for the third
appearance of the Queen of Spades." This was his cue; let him make
the most of it if he would repair the mischief that he had
unwittingly done.
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