I discovered Myra, and we sat on the roller together.
"Well, I've been making myself pleasant," I said. "And then when Archie got out I knew he'd want to sit next to her, so I came away. That is what they call tact in The Lady."
"Archie is rather fond of her," said Myra. "I don't know if——"
"Yes, yes, I understand. Years ago——"
"Let's see. Are you ninety or ninety-one? I always forget."
"Ninety-one next St Crispin's Day. I'm sorry Archie's out. 'The popular cricketer was unfortunate enough to meet a trimmer first ball, and the silent sympathy of the Bank Holiday crowd went out to him as he wended his way to the Pavilion.' Extract from 'Pavilions I have wended to, by Percy Benskin.' Help! There goes Blair!"
After this the situation became very serious. In an hour seven of us had got what I might call the postman's knock. Wilks was still in, but he had only made nine. The score was fifty-two, thanks entirely to Simpson, who had got thirty-five between first and second slip in twenty minutes. This stroke of his is known as the Simpson upper cut, and is delivered straight from the shoulder and off the edge of the bat.
"This is awful," said Myra. "You'll simply have to make some now."
"I think it's time Wilks got on to his second speed. Why doesn't somebody tell him? Hallo, there goes John. I knew there wasn't a run there. Where are my gloves?"
"You mustn't be nervous. Oh, do make some."