They only want to know for certain that I've got the poetic afflatus
all right. Will you take it on?'

'All right.'

'Thanks, awfully.'

'I say, Lorimer,' said Pringle after a pause.

'Yes?'

'Are your people coming down for the O.B.s' match?'

The Old Beckfordians' match was the great function of the Beckford
cricket season. The Headmaster gave a garden-party. The School band
played; the School choir sang; and sisters, cousins, aunts, and parents
flocked to the School in platoons.

'Yes, I think so,' said Lorimer. 'Why?'

'Is your sister coming?'

'Oh, I don't know.' A brother's utter lack of interest in his sister's
actions is a weird and wonderful thing for an outsider to behold.

'Well, look here, I wish you'd get her to come. We could give them tea
in here, and have rather a good time, don't you think?'

'All right. I'll make her come. Look here, Pringle, I believe you're
rather gone on Mabel.'