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 Giles flushed. "Must say I can't see it," he answered, a trifle stiffly. "That is, from a man's point of view; of course a woman is apt to—to get ideas. Dessalines played one of our forwards, and is the best cricketer we've had for years; I've often borrowed his jersey or blazer, just as I would any other chap's … why not? I have never heard of his doing or saying a low thing; fact is, he sets a pace that's rather hard for a chap to hold—doesn't smoke; scarcely ever drinks anything; awfully decent chap. Just now he has got the Haddington cottage on the Crowleigh place … doing some reading; saw him yesterday." He glanced at Virginia; something in her expression puzzled him; he colored abruptly and ceased speaking.

"Here comes Sir Henry," said Manning, whose quick eye had caught sight of a tall figure approaching from the sunken gardens. "You and Giles play another set, Sis; haven't finished my cigar."

"If that's the way Carolina makes you feel I'll stay in England, thank you," said Virginia, with a laugh. Manning's physical indolence was always a joke to Giles and herself, as well as a source of secret wonder to the former, who was compelled to work off his super-abundant vitality a good deal as a rodent is obliged to gnaw to keep its teeth from growing into its brain. Giles did not understand how a man of Manning's high nervous energy could take so little exercise and yet keep his form. He had learned that when the whim seized Manning he was indefatigable.

Sir Henry Maltby walked up the turf steps, passed under the pergola, where he paused for a moment to 12