The first ball came driving, clean and straight, across the court. Muriel, dazed but optimistic, put out her racket. The ball sped on unchecked and bounded against the Pavilion steps.
"Fifteen love!" called Dennis.
"Hard luck," consoled Godfrey.
"I'm so sorry," murmured Muriel.
Godfrey returned the second serve to Delia. She flashed it back to him. Really, it wasn't nice for a girl to drive so straight and so efficiently. Delia's tall, white figure became to Muriel something malevolent and ruthless.
Godfrey returned the ball again, but Dennis at the net put out his long arm and sent the ball crashing down at Muriel's feet, to rise and soar far above her head, beyond her reach, beyond hope.
"Thirty love," called Dennis.
"My fault. I didn't place it well," said Godfrey.
"I am so sorry," pleaded Muriel.
Her time of trial came again. She stood up brave and stiff.