you. I mean to say, both my people are dead and all that sort of thing."

"Thanks for explaining. That has made it quite clear."

"I can't remember my mother. My father died when I was in my last year
at Cambridge. I'd been having a most awfully good time at the 'varsity,'"
said Ginger, warming to his theme. "Not thick, you know, but good. I'd
got my rugger and boxing blues and I'd just been picked for scrum-half
for England against the North in the first trial match, and between
ourselves it really did look as if I was more or less of a snip for my
international."

Sally gazed at him wide eyed.

"Is that good or bad?" she asked.

"Eh?"

"Are you reciting a catalogue of your crimes, or do you expect me to get
up and cheer? What is a rugger blue, to start with?"

"Well, it's... it's a rugger blue, you know."

"Oh, I see," said Sally. "You mean a rugger blue."

"I mean to say, I played rugger--footer--that's to say, football--Rugby
football--for Cambridge, against Oxford. I was scrum-half."

"And what is a scrum-half?" asked Sally, patiently. "Yes, I know you're
going to say it's a scrum-half, but can't you make it easier?"