“I don’t care as much about tennis as I do about archery,” called Sally as they dressed that morning. All the doors were open and the remarks floated from room to room.
“Oh, I do, as a point, if nothing else,” Ann called back from the end of the hall.
“Do me up, somebody,” she added, as she struggled with a refractory button at the back of her white linen dress.
“If the new wing wins points in sports this year, I am not coming back,” Gladys announced. “Here, Ann, turn ’round and stand still, I’ll do you up. Think how awful it would be to have the Red Twins gloating all next term,” she added. “I simply couldn’t stand it.”
“Who plays them in the finals in doubles?” Prue asked.
“We do,” Phyllis answered. “We played off yesterday, and, and of course they had to beat Poppy and Helen.”
“Cheeky of them, I call it,” Gladys commented.
“Oh, well, if you are up against them, we don’t need to worry. How’s your game?” Prue had never held a racket in her hand, but she always spoke in tennis terms.
“Very bad, thank you, Prue,” Janet informed her. “I twisted my wrist yesterday, playing against Kitty and Louise, and Phyl hurt her foot.”
“I suppose the Red Twins are in high feather then. How they love an advantage!” Sally said crossly.