Bradbury started convulsively.
“You mustn’t!”
“I certainly shall.”
A shudder shook Bradbury from head to foot. He felt worse than he had done when his opponent in the final had laid him a stymie on the last green, thereby squaring the match and taking it to the nineteenth hole.
“I will tell you all,” he muttered.
“Well?”
“Well—it was like this.”
“Yes?”
“Er—like this. In fact, this way.”
“Proceed.”