'You hope that you can take my mind off the game and make me go to

pieces, and then you'll win the match.'

'On the contrary,' said Peter. 'I intend to forfeit the match.'

James reeled.

'What!'

'I give up.'

'But--but----' James shook with emotion. His voice quavered. 'Ah!' he

cried. 'I see now: I understand! You are doing this for me because I am

your pal. Peter, this is noble! This is the sort of thing you read

about in books. I've seen it in the movies. But I can't accept the

sacrifice.'

'You must!'

'No, no!'

'I insist!'

'Do you mean this?'

'I give her up, James, old man. I--I hope you will be happy.'

'But I don't know what to say. How can I thank you?'

'Don't thank me.'

'But, Peter, do you fully realize what you are doing? True, I am one

up, but there are nine holes to go, and I am not right on my game

today. You might easily beat me. Have you forgotten that I once took

forty-seven at the dog-leg hole? This may be one of my bad days. Do you

understand that if you insist on giving up I shall go to Miss Forrester

tonight and propose to her?'

'I understand.'

'And yet you stick to it that you are through?'

'I do. And, but the way, there's no need for you to wait till tonight.

I saw Miss Forrester just now outside the tennis court. She's alone.'

James turned crimson.

'Then I think perhaps----'

'You'd better go to her at once.'

'I will.' James extended his hand. 'Peter, old man, I shall never

forget this.'

'That's all right.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Now, do you mean? Oh, I shall potter round the second nine. If you

want me, you'll find me somewhere about.'

'You'll come to the wedding, Peter?' said James, wistfully.

'Of course,' said Peter. 'Good luck.'

He spoke cheerily, but, when the other had turned to go, he stood

looking after him thoughtfully. Then he sighed a heavy sigh.

       *       *       *       *       *

James approached Miss Forrester with a beating heart. She made a

charming picture as she stood there in the sunlight, one hand on her

hip, the other swaying a tennis racket.

'How do you do?' said James.

'How are you, Mr. Todd? Have you been playing golf?'

'Yes.'

'With Mr. Willard?'

Вы читаете The Clicking of Cuthbert
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