"Ah," said Jack with a profound air, "books are dangerous things--
that's the intellectual way of making love! You must be a great
excitement here, with all your ideas!--but now," he went on, "here
I am--I hurried back the moment breakfast was over. I have been
horribly bored--a lawn-tennis party yesterday, the females much to
the fore--it's no good that, it's not the game; at least it's not
lawn-tennis; it's a game all right, but I much suspect it has to do
with love-making rather than exercise."

"You seem very suspicious this morning," said Howard; "you accuse
me of flirting to begin with, and now you suspect lawn-tennis."

Jack shook his head. "I do hate love-making!" he said, "it spoils
everything--it gets in the way, and makes fools of people; the
longer I live, the more I see that most of the things that people
do are excuses for doing something else! But never mind that! I
said I had got to get back to be coached; I said that one of our
dons was staying in the village and had his eye on me. What I want
to know is whether you have made any arrangements about shooting or
fishing? You said you would if you could."

"The keeper is coming in," said Howard, "and we will have a talk to
him; but mind, on one condition--work in the morning, exercise in
the afternoon; and you are to stop to lunch."

"Cousin Anne is bursting into hospitality," said Jack, "because
Maud is coming in for the afternoon. I haven't had time to pump
Maud yet about you, but, by George, I'm going to pump you about her
and father. Did you have a very thick time last night? I could see
father was rather licking his lips."