He frowned at her--he was not going to have any girl laughing at his brother--and returned his attention to the late exponent of Braid and Vardon.
"Here"-- he teed a ball--"you do about every wrong thing you could.

You don't overlook a single one.

Now I'll show you.

Take your stance, address the ball!" He had forgotten, in the heat of his real affection, all the difference in their stations.

He was talking crisply to this Whipple as if he were merely a Cowan twin.