marvel with his chip-shots."

"That sounds as though you played golf."

"When I am not reading Tennyson, you can generally find me out on the
links. Do you play?"

"I love it. How extraordinary that we should have so much in common.
We really ought to be great friends."

He was pausing to select the best of three replies when the lunch bugle
sounded.

"Oh, dear!" she cried. "I must rush. But we shall see one another again
up here afterwards?"

"We will," said Sam.

"We'll sit and read Tennyson."

"Fine! Er--you and I and Mortimer?"

"Oh, no, Bream is going to sit down below and look after poor Pinky."

"Does he--does he know he is?"

"Not yet," said Billie. "I'm going to tell him at lunch."