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"That's game!" said one of the junior Britlings to Mr. Direck with a note of high appreciation, and the whole party, relaxing and crumpling like a lowered flag, moved towards the house and tea. Section 5 "We'll play some more after tea," said Cecily. "It will be cooler then." "My word, I'm beginning to like it," said Mr. Direck. "You're going to play very well," she said.
This was heralded by Mr. Britling, clad in the diaphanous flannels and bearing a hockey stick, advancing with loud shouts to the centre of the hockey field. "Pick up! Pick up!" echoed the young Britlings. Mr. Direck became aware of a tall, drooping man with long hair and long digressive legs in still longer white flannel trousers, and a face that was somehow familiar.
Direck by means of hostess questions and imperfectly accepted answers while she kept a watchful eye on the proceedings. The composition of the company was a matter for some perplexity to Mr. Direck. Mr. and Mrs. Britling were at either end of the table, that was plain enough. It was also fairly plain that the two barefooted boys were little Britlings. But beyond this was a cloud of uncertainty.
Britling's and Lady Frensham's cosmogony.... Section 7 When Mr. Direck and Mr. Britling returned to the Dower House the guest was handed over to Mrs. Britling and Mr. Britling vanished, to reappear at supper time, for the Britlings had a supper in the evening instead of dinner. When Mr.
Mobilisation and the emotions of Herr Heinrich now became the central facts of the Dower House situation. The two younger Britlings mobilised with great vigour upon the playroom floor. Also they made a number of British and German flags out of paper.
And now she was scornfully entertained at the behaviour of everybody in the war crisis. She confided various secrets of state to the elder of the younger Britlings preferably when his father was within earshot. "None of these things they are saying about the war," she said, "really matter in the slightest degree.
The centre forwards went through a rapid little ceremony. They smote their sticks on the ground, and then hit the sticks together. "One," said Mr. Britling. The operation was repeated. "Two," ... "Three." Smack, Mr. Britling had got it and the ball had gone to the shorter and sturdier of the younger Britlings, who had been standing behind Mr. Direck's captain.
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