Chester’s mouth was still open when I began speaking. By the time I had finished it was open still wider. The ecstatic look in his eyes had changed to one of dull despair. “My God!” he muttered. “If her family is like that, what chance is there for a rough-neck like me?” “You admire her?” “She is the alligator’s Adam’s apple,” said Chester, simply. I patted his shoulder. “Have courage, my boy,” I said. “Always remember that the love of a good man, to whom the pro can give only a couple of strokes in eighteen holes is not to be despised.” “Yes, that’s all very well. But this girl is probably one solid mass of brain. She will look on me as an uneducated wart-hog.” “Well, I will introduce you, and we will see. She looked a nice girl.” “You’re a great describer, aren’t you?” said Chester. “A wonderful flow of language you’ve got, I don’t think! Nice girl! Why, she’s the only girl in the world. She’s a pearl among women. She’s the most marvellous, astounding, beautiful, heavenly thing that ever drew perfumed breath.” He paused, as if his train of thought had been interrupted by an idea. “Did you say that her brother’s name was Crispin?” “I did. Why?” Chester gave vent to a few manly oaths. “Doesn’t that just show you how things go in this rotten world?” “What do you mean?” “I was at school with him.” “Surely that should form a solid basis for friendship?” “Should it? Should it, by gad? Well, let me tell you that I probably kicked that blighted worm Crispin Blakeney a matter of seven hundred and forty-six times in the few years I knew him. He was the world’s worst. He could have walked straight into the Wrecking Crew and no questions asked. Wouldn’t it jar you? I have the luck to know her brother, and it turns out that we couldn’t stand the sight of each other.” “Well, there is no need to tell her that.” “Do you mean--?” He gazed at me wildly. “Do you mean that I might pretend we were pals?” “Why not? Seeing that he is in India, he can hardly contradict you.” “My gosh!” He mused for a moment. I could see that the idea was beginning to sink in. It was always thus with Chester. You had to give him time. “By Jove, it mightn’t be a bad scheme at that. I mean, it would start me off with a rush, like being one up on bogey in the first two. And there’s nothing like a good start. By gad, I’ll do it.” “I should.” “Reminiscences of the dear old days when we were lads together, and all that sort of thing.” “Precisely.” “It isn’t going to be easy, mind you,” said Chester, meditatively. “I’ll do it because I love her, but nothing else in this world would make me say a civil word about the blister. Well, then, that’s settled. Get on with the introduction stuff, will you? I’m in a hurry.”