"The children are gone," I said to Dick. "Now we can discuss the prospects for the season in peace." I took up "The Sportsman" again. "I see that Kent is going to—"
"The prospects are all right," said Dick, "if only I can get into form soon enough. Last year I didn't get going till the end of June. By the way, what sort of stuff do you bowl?"
"Ordinary sort of stuff," I said, "with one or two bounces in it. Do you see that Surrey—"
"Fast or slow?"
"Slow—that is, you know, when I do bowl at all. I'm not quite sure this season whether I hadn't better—"
"Slow," said Dick thoughtfully; "that's really what I want. I want lots of that."
"You must get Phyllis to bowl to you," I said with detachment. "You know,
I shouldn't be surprised if Lancashire—"
"My dear man, girls can't bowl. She fields jolly well, though."
"What about your father?"
"His bowling days are rather over. He was in the eleven, you know, thirty years ago. So there's really nobody but—"