Chapter Twenty One.
Singh finds Flannel too hot, and—
There was a game going on in the cricket-field, a sort of French and English affair, which necessitated a good deal of running, and proved to be very hot work; and in an interval of rest, when the boys were gathered together under the elms, Singh threw himself down, panting and half-exhausted, crying: “Oh, I wish to goodness I had something else on but this hot flannel! Here, I know. I’ll go and change it for my silk.”
He left the group of companions, walked slowly along under the row of elms, and came suddenly upon Glyn, who was playing on the opposing side.
“Hallo!” cried the latter anxiously. “What a face! Aren’t you well?”
“Oh yes, quite; only what you call pumped out.”
“What, are you going in?”
“Yes; I shall be all right directly. I had no business to play in this hot jacket. I am only going in to change it.”