“What do we do to-morrow?” he asked.
“You play for the ‘Varsity.”
“Blow it, so I do. I don’t blow it at all, really. I’m frightfully pleased that they’re playing me. But one can’t say that out loud, so one has to say one doesn’t care. The pity of it is that I shall get out first ball, and spend the rest of the day in missing catches. I wonder why I’m such a dam’ bad field?”
“Ask another. But do make a lot of runs. I so much prefer that you should.”
“And to think that it was you who put me into the eleven at school.”
“It was kind of me,” said Jim. “If I’d known you’d have gone ahead of me like this, I shouldn’t have done it.”
“I suppose not. You’re a jealous devil,” said Birds, speaking muffled against Jim’s arm.
“I am. Are we going to bed to-night?”
Birds yawned.
“I suppose we might. It’s about two in the morning, isn’t it?”