“Play!”
She struck it with all her force.
“Forty; fifteen,” was the scorer’s call; and Nat Granton understood that only one stroke lay between him and defeat by a love set.
George Snow deliberately turned away his face.
“I never supposed I could be such a consummate fool,” he said afterward, “but I positively could not look at your last service, Bet. I felt as if the whole universe were at stake.”
As for the player, she was fairly pale with excitement; but her head was clear and her hand steady. She paused an instant, poising her racquet. She observed that Granton stood near the middle of his court. With a quick step she moved to the very outer corner of her own and sent a swift ball sharply under her opponent’s left hand.
“Game; love set,” called the scorer. “Sets two to one in favor of Miss Mork.”
And, amid what for Maugus was a really astonishing round of applause, Betty, flushed but triumphant, walked to the net to shake hands with her vanquished lover.