He took another turn among his cogitations. I took a number of turns among my own, but it was merely walking round and round in a circle.
"When will she announce it, then?" he demanded.
"Ah!" I murmured. "You said she was a good player."
"But a fire-eater!" he resumed. "For her. Oh, hang it! She'll let him go!"
"Then why hasn't she?"
He hesitated. "Well, of course her game could be spoiled by--"
His speech died away into more cogitation, and I had to ask him what he meant.
"By love getting into it somewhere."
We walked on through Worship Street, which we had reached some while since, and the chief features of which I mechanically pointed out to him.
"Jolly old church, that," said Beverly, as we reached my favorite corner and brick wall. "Well, I'll not announce it!" he murmured ga
