“A fairly well hit ball, I think, Dumayne,” Mr. Sabin remarked.
“You got it quite clean away, sir,” the man answered. “It hasn’t run very well though; you will find it a little near the far bunker for a comfortable second.”
“I shall carry it all right,” Mr. Sabin said quietly.
Wolfenden also drove a long ball, but with a little slice. He had to play the odd, and caught the top of the bunker. The hole fell to Mr. Sabin in four.
They strolled off towards the second teeing ground.
“Are you staying down here for long?” Mr. Sabin asked.
Wolfenden hesitated.
“I am not sure,” he said. “I am rather oddly situated at home. At any rate I shall probably be here as long as you.”
“I am not sure about that,” Mr. Sabin said. “I think that I am going to like these links, and if so I shall not hurry away. Forgive me if I am inquisitive, but your reference to home affairs is, I presume, in connection with your father’s health. I was very sorry to hear that he is looked upon now as a confirmed invalid.”
Wolfenden assented gravely. He did not wish to talk about his father to Mr. Sabin. On the other hand, Mr. Sabin was politely persistent.