“As you please, sir—but I don’t think he’ll be able to help you much.”
He turned away to greet Mary who had come up to the group.
She spoke to him quietly.
Then I saw him jerk his head up and say, “Certainly! I’ll come now!”
They wandered away, and as I watched them, Sir Charles broke out again.
“It’s all very well for Bathurst to talk as he does. Baddeley won’t be able to help me, indeed! Deuced fine outlook when you can’t take a stroll in your own garden without having your brains blown out. What do you think, Bill?”
I turned to reply when a hand touched my sleeve. It was Mary, who had just returned from her walk with Anthony.
She had a curiously strained and excited look on her face.
“Bill,” she said, “that question you asked me to-day—so seriously. I’ve decided to give you the chance you want. You’re far too hot for me at cricket, I know that well enough. We’ll consider that game played. But I’ll play you eighteen holes of golf over at Cranwick to-morrow morning. Jack will caddie for you and Mr. Bathurst has promised to do the same for me. And, Bill, jolly good luck!”