I have formed two theories about the game." "I am sure you have," Robert Pettifer interposed.
"And I have invented two improvements, though I admit at once that they will have to wait until a more enlightened age than ours adopts them.

In the first place"-- and Mr.Hazlewood flourished a forefinger in the air--"the game ought to be played with a soft ball.

There is at present a suggestion of violence about it which the use of a soft ball would entirely remove." "Entirely," Mr.Pettifer agreed and his wife exclaimed impatiently: "Rubbish, Harold, rubbish!" Stella broke nervously into the conversation.
"Violence?
Why even women play cricket, Mr.Hazlewood." "I cannot, Stella," he returned, "accept the view that whatever women do must necessarily be right.

There are instances to the contrary." "Yes.

I come across a few of them in my office," Robert Pettifer said grimly; and once more embarrassment threatened to descend upon the party.
But Mr.Hazlewood was off upon a favourite theme.