"Why—why, yes," I hesitated, wondering if I were to be dragged into some wretched foursome. "I have arranged to play with Miss Harding."
"What, again?" she asked.
"This is only my third game with her," I declared.
"Ah, Mr. Smith, do you remember how I warned you several weeks ago?"
I remembered but did not admit it.
"I told you then that some time you would meet a golfing Venus," she said triumphantly, and without waiting for me to make a defense left and joined Miss Dangerfield.
Miss Harding and I waited until we had a clear field ahead of us before we began our game. It was one of the perfect early summer afternoons when it is a delight to live. Oak Cliff is famous for its scenery and for its velvet-like greens.
"I'm going to play my best game this afternoon," announced Miss Harding when I had teed her ball.
"I always play my best game; don't you?" I asked.
"You shall judge of that when we finish this round," she declared.