“Did I not? I was at the top of my form,” said the Englishman gallantly. “But all in vain, as you see.”
“Now for the final,” cried Frances eagerly.
“Dear lady,” said Captain Jack, affecting supreme exhaustion, “as you are mighty, be merciful! Let it suffice that we appear to have given you an exposition of fairly respectable tennis. I am quite done.”
“A great win, Jack,” said Adrien, offering her hand in congratulation.
“All flukes count, eh, Maitland?” laughed Stillwell, unable in spite of his laugh to keep the bite out of his voice.
“Fluke?” exclaimed the Englishman in a slow drawling voice. “I call it ripping good tennis, if I am a judge.”
A murmur of approval ran through the company, crowding about with congratulations to both players.
“Oh, of course, of course,” said Stillwell, noting the criticism of his unsportsmanlike remark. “What I mean is, Maitland is clearly out of condition. If he were not I wouldn't mind taking him on myself,” he added with another laugh.
“Now, do you mean?” said Captain Jack lazily.
“We will wait till the match is played out,” said Stillwell with easy confidence. “Some other day, when you are in shape, eh?” he added, smiling at Maitland.