than do the first hole at Muirfield in two? Oh, Mary, how I have longed

for this moment! I love you! I love you! Ever since I met you I have

known that you were the one girl in this vast world whom I would die to

win! Mary, will you be mine? Shall we go round together? Will you fix

up a match with me on the links of life which shall end only when the

Grim Reaper lays us both a stymie?'

She drooped towards him.

'Mortimer!' she murmured.

He held out his arms, then drew back. His face had grown suddenly

tense, and there were lines of pain about his mouth.

'Wait!' he said, in a strained voice. 'Mary, I love you dearly, and

because I love you so dearly I cannot let you trust your sweet life to

me blindly. I have a confession to make, I am not--I have not always

been'--he paused--'a good man,' he said, in a low voice.

She started indignantly.

'How can you say that? You are the best, the kindest, the bravest man I

have ever met! Who but a good man would have risked his life to save me

from drowning?'

'Drowning?' Mortimer's voice seemed perplexed. 'You? What do you mean?'

'Have you forgotten the time when I fell in the sea last week, and you

jumped in with all your clothes on----'

'Of course, yes,' said Mortimer. 'I remember now. It was the day I did

the long seventh in five. I got off a good tee-shot straight down the

fairway, took a baffy for my second, and---- But that is not the point.

It is sweet and generous of you to think so highly of what was the

merest commonplace act of ordinary politeness, but I must repeat, that

judged by the standards of your snowy purity, I am not a good man. I do

not come to you clean and spotless as a young girl should expect her

husband to come to her. Once, playing in a foursome, my ball fell in

some long grass. Nobody was near me. We had no caddies, and the others

were on the fairway. God knows----' His voice shook. 'God knows I

struggled against the temptation. But I fell. I kicked the ball on to a

little bare mound, from which it was an easy task with a nice

half-mashie to reach the green for a snappy seven. Mary, there have

been times when, going round by myself, I have allowed myself ten-foot

putts on three holes in succession, simply in order to be able to say I

had done the course in under a hundred. Ah! you shrink from me! You are

disgusted!'

'I'm not disgusted! And I don't shrink! I only shivered because it is

rather cold.'

'Then you can love me in spite of my past?'

'Mortimer!'

She fell into his arms.

'My dearest,' he said presently, 'what a happy life ours will be. That

is, if you do not find that you have made a mistake.'

'A mistake!' she cried, scornfully.

'Well, my handicap is twelve, you know, and not so darned twelve at

that. There are days when I play my second from the fairway of the next

hole but one, days when I couldn't putt into a coal-hole with

'Welcome!' written over it. And you are a Ladies' Open Champion. Still,

Вы читаете The Clicking of Cuthbert
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату