the advantage over the historian. Were I an artist, I should show James
at this point falling backwards with his feet together and his eyes
shut, with a semi-circular dotted line marking the progress of his
flight and a few stars above his head to indicate moral collapse. There
are no words that can adequately describe the sheer, black horror that
froze the blood in his veins as this frightful speech smote his ears.
He had never inquired into Miss Forrester's religious views before, but
he had always assumed that they were sound. And now here she was
polluting the golden summer air with the most hideous blasphemy. It
would be incorrect to say that James's love was turned to hate. He did
not hate Grace. The repulsion he felt was deeper than mere hate. What
he felt was not altogether loathing and not wholly pity. It was a blend
of the two.
There was a tense silence. The listening world stood still. Then,
without a word, James Todd turned and tottered away.
* * * * *
Peter was working moodily in the twelfth bunker when his friend
arrived. He looked up with a start. Then, seeing that the other was
alone, he came forward hesitatingly.
'Am I to congratulate you?'
James breathed a deep breath.
'You are!' he said. 'On an escape!'
'She refused you?'
'She didn't get the chance. Old man, have you ever sent one right up
the edge of that bunker in front of the seventh and just not gone in?'
'Very rarely.'
'I did once. It was my second shot, from a good lie, with the light
iron, and I followed well through and thought I had gone just too far,
and, when I walked up, there was my ball on the edge of the bunker,
nicely teed up on a chunk of grass, so that I was able to lay it dead
with my mashie-niblick, holing out in six. Well, what I mean to say is,
I feel now as I felt then--as if some unseen power had withheld me in
time from some frightful disaster.'
'I know just how you feel,' said Peter, gravely.
'Peter, old man, that girl said golf bored her pallid. She said she
thought it was the silliest game ever invented.' He paused to mark the
effect of his words. Peter merely smiled a faint, wan smile. 'You don't
seem revolted,' said James.
'I am revolted, but not surprised. You see, she said the same thing to
me only a few minutes before.'
'She did!'
'It amounted to the same thing. I had just been telling her how I did
the lake-hole today in two, and she said that in her opinion golf was a
game for children with water on the brain who weren't athletic enough
to play Animal Grab.'
The two men shivered in sympathy.
'There must be insanity in the family,' said James at last.
'That,' said Peter, 'is the charitable explanation.'
'We were fortunate to find it out in time.'
