"And, oh, what shall I do?"
"Kindly give me particulars," I said, taking out my pad from force of
habit.
She hesitated a moment, as if afraid to speak.
"You are caddying for Mr. Jopp in the Final tomorrow?" she said at
last.
"I am."
"Then could you--would you mind--would it be giving you too much
trouble if I asked you to shout 'Boo!' at him when he is making his
stroke, if he looks like winning?"
I was perplexed.
"I don't understand."
"I see that I must tell you all. I am sure you will treat what I say as
absolutely confidential."
"Certainly."
"I am provisionally engaged to Mr. Jopp."
"Provisionally?"
She gulped.
"Let me tell you my story. Mr. Jopp asked me to marry him, and I would
rather do anything on earth than marry him. But how could I say 'No!'
with those awful eyes of his boring me through? I knew that if I said
'No', he would argue me out of it in two minutes. I had an idea. I
gathered that he had never played golf, so I told him that I would
marry him if he won the Amateur Championship this year. And now I find
that he has been a golfer all along, and, what is more, a plus man! It
isn't fair!"
"He was not a golfer when you made that condition," I said.
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