Anthony appeared to take the news very quietly.
“When did he ask you that?” he queried.
“During the luncheon interval of Friday—the last day’s cricket we had.”
“I don’t wish to appear inquisitive, and believe me I am not asking idly or frivolously—what was your reply?”
Mary blushed a little and her eyes fluttered in my direction.
“I will tell you, Mr. Bathurst, I told him that I would give him his answer the next day—that was all I told him.”
“I am going a little further then—what was your answer going to be?”
She looked at me again, then shook her head.
“I don’t know, Mr. Bathurst. To be perfectly frank with you, I don’t really know—he was too good an athlete to take chances with.”
Anthony raised his eyes with an expression of bewilderment. “Too good an athlete? I don’t quite understand.”