"Don't you think," said Miss Hope (TWO, FIVE—ABANDONED), "that your overhead volleying is just a little severe?"
THE OPENING SEASON
"My dear," said Jeremy, as he folded back his paper at the sporting page, "I have some news for you. Cricket is upon us once again."
"There's a nasty cold upon Baby once again," said Mrs Jeremy. "I hope it doesn't mean measles."
"No child of mine would ever have measles," said Jeremy confidently. "It's beneath us." He cleared his throat and read, "'The coming season will be rendered ever memorable by the fact that for the first time in the history of the game—' You'll never guess what's coming."
"Mr Jeremy Smith is expected to make double figures."
Jeremy sat up indignantly.
"Well of all the wifely things to say! Who was top of our averages last year?"
"Plummer. Because you presented the bat to him yourself."
"That proves nothing. I gave myself a bat too, as it happens; and a better one than Plummer's. After all, his average was only 25. Mine, if the weather had allowed me to finish my solitary innings, would probably have been 26."