“If we could have some privacy…” said Tony, still glaring.

“I do not mind speaking in your presence,” said Blankenhagen. “I have nothing to hide.”

Tony said several things, all of them rude. Blankenhagen continued to sit.

“Oh, hell,” said Tony. “Why should I care? All right, Vicky, the game is over. It wasn’t as much fun as we expected, but it had its moments. So—speaking quite impartially, and without bias—who won?”

“Me,” I said. “Oh, all right, Tony, I’m kidding. Speaking quite impartially, I’d say we came out about even. It was partly a matter of luck. You would have fingered George sooner or later—if he hadn’t fingered us first. I solved the murder of Burckhardt, but primarily because I was the one who found the arsenic. Shall we call it a tie?”

“That’s all I ever wanted to prove,” said Tony smugly.

“You’re a damned liar,” I said, stung to the quick. “You were trying to prove your superiority to me. And you did not. I didn’t need you at all. I could have figured out the whole thing—”

“Oh, you cheating little crook,” said Tony. “You said you would marry me if I could prove you weren’t my intellectual superior. I proved it. I didn’t need you, either. I could have handled this business much better if you hadn’t been around getting in my way and falling over your own feet—”

“Liar, liar,” I yelled. “I never said any such thing! And even if I did, you haven’t—” I stopped. My mouth dropped open. “I thought you wanted to marry Irma,” I said in a small voice.

“Irma is a nice girl,” said Tony. “And I admit there were moments when the thought of a soft, docile, female-type woman was attractive. But now she’s rich…. Let Blankenhagen marry Irma.”

“No, thank you,” said Blankenhagen, who had been an interested spectator. He looked severely at Tony. “You use the wrong tactics, my friend. You do not know this woman. You do not know how to handle any woman. Under her competence, her intelligence, this woman wishes to be mastered. It requires an extraordinary man to do this, I admit. But—”

“Really?” said Tony. “You think if I—”

“Not you,” said Blankenhagen. “I. I will marry this woman. She needs me to master her.”

“You!” Tony leaped out of his chair. “So help me, if you weren’t crippled, I’d—”

“You,” said Blankenhagen, sneering, “and who else?”

“You can’t marry her.” Tony added, unforgivably, “You’re shorter than she is.”

“What does that matter?”

“Right,” I said, interested. “That’s irrelevant. I can always go around barefoot.”

“Shut up,” said Tony to me. To Blankenhagen he said, “She doesn’t know you. You could be a crook. You could be a bigamist!”

“But I am not.”

“How do I know you’re not?”

“My life is open to all.” Blankenhagen had kept his composure which put him one up on Tony. Turning a dispassionate eye on me, he remarked, “You are somewhat concerned, after all. Perhaps we should hear your views.”