"Yes; ay nap after dinner," said the mask archly. But Jos looking frightened, she continued, in her pretty French accent, "You do not play to win. No more do I. I play to forget, but I cannot. I cannot forget old times, monsieur. Your little nephew is the image of his father; and you--you are not changed--but yes, you are. Everybody changes, everybody forgets; nobody has any heart."
"Good God, who is it?" asked Jos in a flutter.

"Yes; a nap after dinner," said the mask archly. "You do not play to win. No more do I. I play to forget, but I cannot. I cannot forget old times, monsieur. Your little nephew is the image of his father; and you - you are not changed - yet everybody changes, everybody forgets; nobody has any heart."
"Good God, who is it?" asked Jos in a flutter.
