“I don't think so,” he said slowly.
The Hon. Geoffrey returned to his duties.
“We got poor old Barter for a 'blob'.” he said over his shoulder.
The Squire became aware that Mr. Barter was approaching from behind.
“You see that left-hand fellow?” he said, pouting. “Just watch his foot. D'you mean to say that wasn't a no-ball? He bowled me with a no-ball. He's a rank no-batter. That fellow Locke's no more an umpire than——”
He stopped and looked earnestly at the bowler.
The Squire 'did not answer, sitting on his mare as though carved in stone. Suddenly his throat clicked.
“How's your wife?” he said. “Margery would have come to see her, but—but she's gone up to London.”
The Rector did not turn his head.
“My wife? Oh, going on first-rate. There's another! I say, Winlow, this is too bad!”