"No, no," I said firmly. "Rules are rules." I had just remembered that there was nothing in the rules about not getting up again.
"Then I'll come with you and see your room."
"No, you mustn't do that; you'd fall out of the window. It's a very tricky window. I'm always falling out of it myself."
"Then let's go on playing here, and we won't go to bed if we miss."
"Very well," I agreed. Really there was nothing else for it.
Robbed of its chief interest, the game proved, after ten minutes or so, to be one of the duller ones. Whatever people say, I don't think it compares with cricket, for instance. It is certainly not so subtle as golf.
"I like playing this game," said Betty. "Don't you?"
"I think I shall get to love it," I said, looking at the clock. There were still five minutes, and I rolled down a very fast googly which beat her entirely and went straight for the door. Under the old rules she would have gone to bed at once. Alas, that—
"Look out," I said as she went after it, "there's somebody coming in."
Somebody came in. She smiled ruefully at us and then took Betty's hand.