“You cannot play tennis, can you?” asked the girl dryly. “Not a little, tiny bit.”
“No; not a little bit.”
“Golf?” Head on one side.
“Not guilty.”
“Swim?”
“Gloriously. Like a stone.”
“Run?” Head on the other side.
“If there's any one after me.”
“Ride? Every one rides down this-away, you know.”
A sudden vague passion mouthed at Garrison's heart. “Ride?” he echoed, eyes far away. “I—I think so.”