Perhaps he would not be quite so stout if he did.
"You won your game ?" says Margaret Knollys, bending towards Tita, with a smile.
Old Lady Eshurst is smiling at her, too.
"Oh yes; how could I help it?
Sir Maurice"-- with a glance at the latter as he climbs the slope in turn--"plays like an angel." "Oh no; it is you who do that," says he, laughing.
"Are you an angel, Miss Bolton ?" asks Mrs.Bethune, who is standing next Rylton.
He had gone straight to her, but she had not forgiven his playing with the girl at all, and a sense of hatred towards Tita is warming her breast.
"I don't know," says Tita, with a slight grimace.

It is not the answer expected.

Marian had expected to see her shy, confused; Tita, on the contrary, is looking at her with calm, inquiring eyes.

"Do you ?" asks she.
"I have not gone into it," says Mrs.Bethune, with as distinct a sneer as she can allow herself.
Mr.Gower laughs.
"You're good at games," says he to Tita.
He might have meant her powers at tennis, he might have meant _anything_.
"That last game you are thinking of ?" "Decidedly, the last game," says Gower, who laughs again immoderately.
"I don't see what there is to laugh at," says Miss Bolton, with some indignation.

"'They laugh who win,' is an old proverb.