The girl, flushed and tired and less elated with success than he was, followed him to the back of the pavilion, and stood drinking lemonade, and talking to a little knot of competitors who were there for a similar purpose. Some of the players she knew, but a number of them were visitors down for the tournament. A dance that night at the Town Hall was to celebrate the finish of the festivities. A group of flannel-clad young men and white-frocked young women were discussing the ball and booking dances in advance. Some one came up to Esme and asked her for a dance, which she promised willingly. In a very short while she had given a number of dances away. Sinclair touched her arm. "I want some," he said. "I want quite a lot." His tone was urgent, and when she turned to look at him she saw that his face was strained and very determined. The expression in his eyes puzzled her. "Of course," she said, "I should feel a little hurt if you didn't." "Look here!" he said in an undertone. "Come out of this. I don't want you to give away any more--not at present. I'm going to have the supper dance, and everything after that. Is it a promise?" "Well," she said, and looked somewhat doubtful. "That means that you are booked for the entire half of my programme." He nodded. "That's it," he said. "But,"--she was beginning, when he took hold of her arm and led her outside, with a muttered reference to the stifling heat. "Come and sit under the trees," he said. "I want to watch the set on the far court." It was one of the less interesting sets, and there were fewer spectators, which was probably why he decided for it. He conducted her to an unoccupied seat and sat down beside her. "It's jolly here and cool and out of the crush. You don't want to watch the Johannesburg chap, do you?" She would have preferred to watch the play on the centre court. It was clear that the Johannesburg man would carry off the championship in the men's singles; but she gave in to his wish and decided to remain where she was. Sinclair's manner was nervous and preoccupied; but the girl did not appear to notice it; she did not want to talk. Her companion smoked cigarettes and stared with a sort of strained attention at the game and jerked out an occasional comment. Presently he remarked apropos of nothing: "I had a rise yesterday. That was an altogether unexpected stroke of luck." "Yes!" she exclaimed, turning an interested, unsuspicious face towards him. "I am pleased. Why didn't you tell me before?" He laughed. "Too absorbed in our game," he said, "to think of it. But I'm thinking of it now. It makes a difference." "I suppose it does. You'll be bursting forth into extravagances. Why don't you keep a car?" "Not yet," he said. "I want other things more urgently than that." "What things?" "I'll tell you to-night," he said, reddening.