Certain positions of the game struck him as humorous, which nothing else on earth could do.

.

.
"He used to beat you," I asserted with confidence.
"Yes.

He used to beat me," Marlow owned up hastily.
So he and Fyne played two games after tea.

The children romped together outside, gravely, unplayfully, as one would expect from Fyne's children, and Mrs.Fyne would be gone to the bottom of the garden with the girl- friend of the week.