I have read many books on bridge, if not with great profit, certainly with great interest, but there is one matter that, naturally enough, they never deal with, but now and again the ordinary player finds himself obliged to deal with it, and I, for my part, have never discovered how to do so.
A good many years ago, before the last war, I had a friend staying with me on the Riviera who was a very good player. He would have been even a better player if he had not thought himself a good deal better than he really was.
We were invited to lunch in Cannes and to spend the afternoon at the card table. On our way home in the car, my guest said to me:
«Will you be offended if I say something to you about your friends?»
«I’m sure I shan’t,» I answered.
«They were cheating,» he said.
I burst out laughing. «Of course they were,» I replied. «We all know that.»
For a moment he was stunned. «Why d’you play with them then?» he asked.
«Well, you see,» I said, «I like playing bridge, and it’s not so easy just now to get a game. I get a certain amount of fun in watching them. I play with them a lot and I watch them carefully. I know they cheat, but for the life of me, I can’t see how they do it. I find it gives the game a peculiar interest.»
«Well, I don’t think you ought to have asked me to play with them,» said my friend.
I tried to placate him.
«After all,» I said, «we didn’t lose much. They gave us double Martinis to start with, a slap-up lunch with a particularly good bottle of white Burgundy and old brandy with our coffee. At 6 o’clock they regaled us with champagne cocktails. With the cost of everything on the Riviera they can’t have made anything worthwhile on balance.»
«But you said they were rich people,» my guest said.
«They are,» I answered, «much richer than you or I.»
«Then why do they cheat?» he asked.
«Because they like to win. Money doesn’t come into it.»
My friend didn’t see my point.