Mentally, he went round and round in circles, but he could find no exit.

There is no file to saw the bars of circumstance.
That the lithe young figure on the other side of the net, here, there, backward and forward, alert, accurate, bubbling with energy.

.

.
Once, a mad rollicking impulse seized and urged him to vault the net and take her in his arms and hold her still for a moment.

But he knew.
She was using him as an athlete uses a trainer before a real contest.
There was something more behind his stroke than mere awkwardness.