But he waited in vain; and when they had walked a whole street-block in this mute fashion, it was he who broke the silence.
"Ripping girls, those Woodwards," he said, and seemed to be remembering their charms.
"Yes, they looked very nice," said Laura in a small voice, and was extremely conscious of her own thirteen years.
"Simply stunning! Though May's so slender—May's the pretty one—and has such a jolly figure ... I believe I could span her waist with my two hands ... her service is just A1—at tennis I mean."
"Is it really?" said Laura wanly, and felt unutterably depressed at the turn the conversation was taking.—Her own waist was coarse, her knowledge of tennis of the slightest.
"Ra-THER! Overhand, with a cut on it—she plays with a 14-oz. racquet. And she has a back drive, too, by Jove, that—you play, of course?"
"Oh, yes." Laura spoke up manfully; but prayed that he would not press his inquiries further. At this juncture his attention was diverted by the passing of a fine tandem; and as soon as he brought it back to her again, she said: 'You're at Trinity, aren't you?'—which was finesse; for she knew he wasn't.
"Well, yes ... all but," answered Bob well pleased. "I start in this winter."
"How nice!"
There was another pause; then she blurted out: "We church girls always wear Trinity colours at the boat-race."