And so I did in the field, although I had never shot or seen a pigeon match in all my life.
"Precisely.

Mrs.Stevenson, will you allow this sort of talk ?" "Go on, go on," said Kitty.

"I'll have something up myself on Mr.
Cowles." ("Don't let him scare you, Jack," she whispered to me aside.) That was a foolish speech of hers, and a foolish act of mine.

But for my part, I continually found myself doing things I should not do.
Orme passed his cigarette case.

"In view of my possibly greater experience," he said, "I'd allow Mr.Cowles six in the hundred." "I am not looking for matches," said I, my blood kindling at his accustomed insolence; "but if I shot it would be both men at scratch." "Oh, very well," smiled Orme.