"Now we've got to win this," she said, "because we shan't play together again for a long time."
"That's a nice cheery thing to say to a person just when he's driving. Now I shall have to address the ball all over again."
"Oh, NO!"
I addressed and despatched the ball. It struck a wall about eighty yards away and dropped. When we got there we found to our disgust that it was nestling at the very foot. Myra looked at it doubtfully.
"Can't you make it climb the wall?" I asked.
"We shall have to go back, I'm afraid. We can pretend we left our pocket-handkerchiefs behind."
She chipped it back about twenty yards, and I sent it on again about a hundred. Unfortunately it landed in a rut. However Myra got it out with great resource, and I was lucky enough with my next to place it inside the magic circle.
"Five," I said. "You know, I don't think you're helping me much. All you did that hole was to go twenty-one yards in the wrong direction."
Myra smiled cheerfully at me and did the next hole in one. "Well played, partner," she said, as he put her club back in its bag.
"Oh, at the short holes I don't deny that you're useful. Where do we go now?"