And I've half a mind, if
he doesn't wake up and improve, to offer him a handicap.
He shall be safe, all the world over, when he can find a
golf-course for sanctuary, and shall play his little game while
I wait for him and:"
Sit on a stile
And continue to smile.
"I wonder what sort of a hell it would be, going round and
round on endless rounds of golf--with a real Colonel Bogey
sitting on the stile and watching. . . . But I make no promises,
no offers, just now.
"He tells me that at the Club House he found a Golf Major of
sorts--or, as he puts it, 'a compatriot, a military gentleman,
retired, with a remarkable knowledge of India'--and seduced him
into playing a round. I should gather that Farrell plays an
indifferent game. At all events, the Golf Major was averse from
a second round, and retiring to a table in the Club veranda
allowed Farrell to call for--catch hold of your French, Roddy--
'_Deux bieres, complet_.' The waiter understood it to mean
liquid refreshment and not a double funeral.
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