Barstow's voice was raised in jovial applause.
"That was a good egg, Wallie.

A very good egg.

Let me try now!" and so alternately they shot as the birds darted overhead across the lawn.
Sylvia waited for the moment when Barstow's aim would suddenly develop a deadly precision, but that moment did not come.

If there was any betting upon this match, Hine would not be the loser.

She went quietly back to a writing-desk and wrote her letters.