"Ah!" I exclaimed, "then he's only a rabbit after all."
The old thing gave me an unfriendly glance and then missed his hoop
badly. I strolled across and sat down beside the newcomer. He smiled at
me in a frank and disarming manner.
"What do you think of our courts?" I said by way of a start.
"Top-hole," he replied; "I'm looking forward to some jolly games on
'em."
His obvious disregard of perspective annoyed me. In our village, tennis
is now played for hygienic reasons only.
"I'm afraid we can't offer you much of a game," I said. "You see there's
a war on, and--but perhaps I can fix up a single for you after tea with
old Patterby. I believe he was very hot stuff in the seventies."
"That's very good of you. I expect he'll knock my head off; I'm no use
at the game yet."
He spoke as though an endless and blissful period of practice was in
front of him.
"I suppose you'll be going back soon?"
"Back where?"
"I mean your leave will be up."
"Oh, I'm out of a job just now."
So it was genuine blatant indifference. I looked round for something
with which to slay him.
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