to say, they were sitting round
the fire and saying to each other, "This _is_ a rotten play." We had
been offered the position of auditors to several of the company, but we
were going to see _Parsifal_ on the next day, and I was afraid that the
constant excitement would be bad for Celia.

"Why don't you ask me to play with you?" she asked. "You never teach me
anything."

"There's ingratitude. Why, I gave you your first lesson at golf only
last Thursday."

"So you did. I know golf. Now show me billiards."

I looked at my watch.

"We've only twenty minutes. I'll play you thirty up."

"Right-o. What do you give me--a ball or a bisque or what?"

"I can't spare you a ball, I'm afraid. I shall want all three when I get
going. You may have fifteen start, and I'll tell you what to do."

"Well, what do I do first?"

"Select a cue."

She went over to the rack and inspected them.

"This seems a nice brown one. Now then, you begin."

"Celia, you've got the half-butt. Put it back and take a younger one."

"I thought it seemed taller than the others." She took another. "How's
this? Good. Then off you go."

"Will you be spot or plain?" I said, chalking my cue.

"Does it matter?"

"Not very much. They're both the same shape."

"Then what's the difference?"

"Well, one is more spotted than the other."

"Then I'll be less spotted."

I went to the table.

"I think," I said, "I'll try and screw in off the red." (I did this once
by accident and I've always wanted to do it again.) "Or perhaps," I
corrected myself, as soon as the ball had left me, "I had better give a
safety miss."

I did. My ball avoided the red and came swiftly back into the left-hand
bottom pocket.

"That's three to you," I said without enthusiasm.

Celia seemed surprised.

"But I haven't begun yet," she said. "Well, I suppose you know the
rules, but it seems funny. What would you like me to do?"

"Well, there isn't much on. You'd better just try and hit the red ball."

"Right." She leant over the table and took long and careful aim. I held
my breath.... Still she aimed.... Then, keeping her chin on the cue, she
slowly turned her head and looked up at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Oughtn't there to be three balls on the table?" she said, wrinkling her
forehead.

"No," I answered shortly.

"But why not?"

"Because I went down by mistake."

"But you said that when you got going, you wanted---- I can't argue
bending down like t