He drifted off in the direction of the Pavilion, stopping on the way to
ask short leg his opinion of the matter.

'Bowled, Sammy,' said Reece, putting on the bails.

'Well bowled, Gosling,' growled Norris from the slips.

'Sammy the marvel, by Jove,' said Marriott. 'Switch it on, Samuel, more
and more.'

'I wish Norris would give me a rest. Where on earth is that man
Gethryn?'

'Rum, isn't it? There's going to be something of a row about it. Norris
seems to be getting rather shirty. Hullo! here comes the Deathless
Author.'

The author referred to was the new batsman, a distinguished novelist,
who played a good deal for the M.C.C. He broke his journey to the
wicket to speak to the conversationalist, who was still engaged with
short leg.

'Bates, old man,' he said, 'if you're going to the Pavilion you might
wait for me. I shall be out in an hour or two.'

Upon which Bates, awaking suddenly to the position of affairs, went on
his way.

With the arrival of the Deathless Author an unwelcome change came over
the game. His cricket style resembled his literary style. Both were