"Aren't you ever going to walk to the wickets again?" asked Blair.
"Aren't you ever going to walk back to the pavilion again?" asked
Archie.
"What will Montgomeryshire say?" wondered Myra in tones of awe.
"May I have your belt and your sand-shoes?" I begged.
"It's the cider," said Thomas. "I knew he was overdoing it."
Simpson fixed his glasses firmly on his nose and looked round at us benignly.
"I've given it up for golf," he observed.
"Traitor," said everyone.
"And the Triangular Tournament arranged for, and everything," added
Myra.
"You could make a jolly little course round here," went on the infatuated victim. "If you like, Archie, I'll—"