A couple more in the afternoon will about see us through. One
doesn't want to over-golf oneself the first day." He swung the putter
joyfully. "How had we better play do you think? We might start with you
giving me a half."
She did not speak. She was very pale. She clutched the arm of her chair
tightly till the knuckles showed white under the skin.
To anybody but Mortimer her nervousness would have been even more
obvious on the following morning, as they reached the first tee. Her
eyes were dull and heavy, and she started when a grasshopper chirruped.
But Mortimer was too occupied with thinking how jolly it was having the
course to themselves to notice anything.
He scooped some sand out of the box, and took a ball out of her bag.
His wedding present to her had been a brand-new golf-bag, six dozen
balls, and a full set of the most expensive clubs, all born in
Scotland.
"Do you like a high tee?" he asked.
"Oh, no," she replied, coming with a start out of her thoughts.
"Doctors say it's indigestible."
Mortimer laughed merrily.
"Deuced good!" he chuckled.
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