yar-bor-ough (YAHR-bur-oh, -buhr-oh)
(n.) (Whist, Bridge) a hand in which no card is higher than a nine.
Peter couldn’t help but grin. He couldn’t help but grin and pat himself on the back, because the date was going splendidly, and had been all night. The date was going as well as a date could conceivably go, and it gave him high hopes, both for the future and the evening ahead.
"You’re funny," she said, still catching her breath. She looked up at him, at the dark flecks in his eyes, and he held her gaze for a precise span of time before flaring his eyebrows in a particular way, and she looked away again, giggling, her eyes shrinking down to narrow slits, tiny black smiles in mimicry of the one flashing beneath her red painted lips.
"What can I say?" He shrugged, a gesture steeped in layers of deliberate irony. False modesty, intended.
"I don’t know," she said, recovering, "you’ve been saying an awful lot tonight."
He leaned forward. “Are you implying I talk too much?”
"So what if I am?"
"That’s very rude of you."
She laughed again.