A Royal Run of Patience

Suffocating indoors another moment was out of the question, so I slipped through the garden doors into the shelter of the covered summerhouse. Upon the damp wrought-iron table lay an abandoned travel tin of miniature playing cards, left mid-game by someone who clearly lacked tactical breeding. Naturally, I took command of the green felt mat. Bracing my heels against the metal scrollwork, I used both hands to drag an ornate Queen of Spades decisively over a scattered row of tens, completing an immaculate run of solitaire. Those mass-produced upstarts might steal modern catalogue spreads, but they could never command the calculated wit of high-stakes patience. An absolute triumph, darling.