"I've done that."
"Then ram the red."
Thomas rammed and all but sank it in the left-hand pocket.
"I am now," I said, "going to do a cannon off the cushion. Marker, what is my score?"
"One, sir."
"Then kindly get ready to put it up to three.... Rotten luck."
"Wrong side," said Myra judicially.
"No, I meant to hit it that side."
"I mean you wanted a little running side."
"This isn't Queen's Club. Go on, Thomas."