"Bring him along," I said, and patted her hand. "It may be that
together we shall find an opportunity of reasoning with him."
She shook her head.
"You can't reason with George. He never stops talking long enough to
give you time."
"Nevertheless, there is no harm in trying. I have an idea that this
malady of his is not permanent and incurable. The very violence with
which the germ of loquacity has attacked him gives me hope. You must
remember that before this seizure he was rather a noticeably silent
man. Sometimes I think that it is just Nature's way of restoring the
average, and that soon the fever may burn itself out. Or it may be that
a sudden shock ... At any rate, have courage."
"I will try to be brave."
"Capital! At half-past two on the first tee, then."
"You will have to give me a stroke on the third, ninth, twelfth,
fifteenth, sixteenth and eighteenth," she said, with a quaver in her
voice. "My golf has fallen off rather lately."
I patted her hand again.
"I understand," I said gently. "I understand."
* * * * *
The steady drone of a baritone voice as I alighted from my car and
approached the first tee told me that George had not forgotten the
tryst.
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