"You could learn."

"But I'm not sure if dancing is a good thing for a fellow's game. You
never hear of any first-class pro. dancing. James Braid doesn't dance."

"Well, my mind's made up. Mortimer, you must choose between golf and
me."

"But, darling, I went round in a hundred and one yesterday. You can't
expect a fellow to give up golf when he's at the top of his game."

"Very well. I have nothing more to say. Our engagement is at an end."

"Don't throw me over, Betty," pleaded Mortimer, and there was that in
his voice which cut me to the heart. "You'll make me so miserable. And,
when I'm miserable, I always slice my approach shots."

Betty Weston drew herself up. Her face was hard.

"Here is your ring!" she said, and swept from the room.

* * * * *

For a moment after she had gone Mortimer remained very still, looking
at the glistening circle in his hand. I stole across the room and
patted his shoulder.

"Bear up, my boy, bear up!" I said.

He looked at me piteously.