“Did you win?” she asked.
He smiled.
“No; I played rottenly. I came in defeated, and sat in the stand near you.”
“If you had won,” she said, “I might possibly have noticed you.”
“It would be kinder,” he said, “if you spared defeat a few of your glances. You shook hands with the winner.”
“How horrid of me!” she cried.
“Oh! well, he was a P.E. man. I expect you were pleased he carried off the honours. I had to go back immediately; I went by the night train. Soon afterwards I was back in Port Elizabeth. I didn’t see you on that occasion.”
Pamela looked away from him, and gazed thoughtfully above the trees at the mountain which towered high above them, blue in the afternoon sunlight, with dark purple shadows in its cleft sides that deepened into black.
“I married just about that time,” she said.
“So I heard.”