"Mary," I said at the first chance, "are we never to talk again?"
"It's all different," she said.
"I am dying to talk to you—as we used to talk."
"And I—Stevenage. But—— You see?"
"Next time I come," I said, "I shall bring you a letter. There is so much——"
"No," she said. "Can't you get up in the morning? Very early—five or six. No one is up until ever so late."
"I'd stay up all night."
"Serve!" said Maxton, who was playing the two of us and had stopped I think to tighten a shoe.
Things conspired against any more intimacy for a time. But we got our moment on the way to tea. She glanced back at Philip, who was loosening the net, and then forward to estimate the distance of Maxton and Guy. "They're all three going," she said, "after Tuesday. Then—before six."